Loads of Love for Downy
by KuryakinGirl
Summary: Sunday afternoons in the laundromat were never so fun before...
1. Not Tide with Bleach

Disclaimer—Characters belong to Chris Fedak and Josh Schwartz. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Author's Notes—This wouldn't be possible without the graciousness of Cindy Ryan, who allowed me to adopt her J/Ellie plot bunny. It was so cute and fluffy that, as soon as it made it to my brain, it just bounced all over the place and the following is what came about. Very big thanks to Cindy for the beta as well!

Also, normally I have a story finished in its entirety before I start posting anything. Not so much with this one... I'll just keep posting and see how many Sundays we can do. ;)

Spoilers—None. General information only.

Loads of Love for Downy—Sunday afternoons in the laundromat were never so fun before...

* * *

The apartment complex had a small laundry room, with all of three sets of washers and dryers that had to be ancient. They were battered, dented and scratched. The worst part, however, was that the belts squeaked as they struggled to agitate or spin. It was enough to drive John Casey mad, but that was why he brought along a laptop and NSA-issued headphones. While listening to the drivel from the Intersect's apartment wasn't the best protection, it was better than none at all.

It was a drizzly, dismal Sunday afternoon in Echo Park. A good day for getting caught up on the more domestic tasks he rarely had the time or inclination to accomplish after an operation of importance to national security or selling the occasional charcoal grill. The first load, his dark mission clothes, was already in the dryer. The second load, filled with his Buy More uniforms of polos and khakis, was just beginning its wash. He always felt bad about taking up more than one set of machines at a time. There was no point in monopolizing the amenities provided by the landlord, as scarce as they were.

As his charge and his charge's dweeb of a friend began to banter about the pros and cons of Bad Company 2 over Modern Warfare 2, he sighed, removing his headphones. Maybe he would be better off with the incessant belt noise. And maybe Chuck Bartowski could keep himself out of trouble for the remaining hour or two Casey would be sequestered in the laundromat.

He closed the laptop, securing it in the black backpack at his feet. Turning his attention to the room's small windows, he could see the rain pelting down. It could've been worse, he decided. He could be in the field somewhere, on a stakeout. There was nothing worse than rainy conditions while trying to keep track of a mark.

As he watched the tiny rivulets of water dance down the window pane, his keen senses alerted him that something was off, something was different. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his ears heard some small sound, something that hadn't been there before. Rationally, it was probably something coming loose within the old Whirlpool.

Except, it didn't match the cycle noises.

Caution being his middle name, he visually scanned the room, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. He reached for his service weapon tucked in the back waistband of his jeans. As he pulled his SIG Sauer, however, he realized what it was he was aiming at, his culprit.

He grunted, replacing his weapon and adjusting his tee shirt to cover the bulge. "Where did you come from?" he asked, reaching down and scooping up the puffball of fur. The kitten was small, a calico blend, and fit just perfectly in his large hand.

While he was distracted with his new feline companion, the door to the laundry room smacked open. He eased the cat onto the floor and was about to pull his weapon again when he spotted the slightly soggy form of one Ellie Woodcomb standing there in the open doorway.

"Oh, hey, John," she said, hefting her precariously stacked hampers onto the table. She looked at her soaked arms with a shake of her head before running her fingers through her wet hair. "Lovely weather we're having, huh?" she asked with a smile that could've easily brightened up the greater Los Angeles area.

He grunted, then tried to cover by clearing his throat. "Yeah."

"Devon always wants to insist on going to the laundromat downtown, with the gigantic, industrial machines, but, by the time you drive all the way out there, find a spot..." She sighed. "Not to mention, I can only imagine what I'd look like, hiking three blocks from the parking structure to the front door."

It seemed like something the preppy adventure-sports cardiologist would insist upon. Casey tried not to sneer. "I take it he's not aware you're here."

She shook her head as she loaded the other two washers. "He's got a niece that's graduating elementary school in Arizona. So, the Very Awesomes are all gathering for the celebration."

"You didn't go?"

She glanced at him, hesitating. He looked like the kind of guy who could keep her secret. "Well, I probably could've, but I really didn't want to... So many Awesomes in one place?" She shivered, and not because she was soaked to the bone.

He couldn't prevent the amused grunt.

"Plus, it's elementary school. She'll probably have another one at middle school, but the important one is high school..." She drifted off. "I'm horrible, aren't I?"

"I don't think so," he said, watching as the kitten rubbed up against his leg. He sighed a little. He'd made a friend, hadn't he?

She glanced up at his sigh, absently tossing more scrubs into the washing machine. She followed his gaze to the tiny bundle of fur at his shoes. "John... is that...?" She lowered her voice. "I thought the landlord installed this new no-pet policy."

"It's not mine," he told her. "I found it."

She quickly loaded the machines, added soap, and started them. "It's adorable," she said, crossing towards the little dear. "I think she likes you."

"You sure it's a she?" he asked.

Ellie scooped it up, holding it close. "Oh, John, how cute is she?"

Obviously, John decided, women just clearly had to know the gender of small furry creatures by some freakish sixth sense. "Pretty cute, I guess."

"And you just found it?"

He nodded. "Right before you came in."

"Probably avoiding the rain," she said, scratching the cat behind the ears. "I always wanted a cat when I was a kid. Never got one," she lamented.

"I had a dog once," he found himself telling her.

"Yeah?"

He realized that was a question that meant for him to tell her about it. He scratched at the back of his neck. "It was a black lab mix. A mutt, really."

"What was its name?"

He smiled at the memory. "Duke."

She grinned. "I can see you having a big, black lab mix named Duke," she said, easing onto one of the chairs in the room, still holding the kitten. "This little girl needs a name."

"Are you sure that's a wise idea?"

"Why would it be a bad one?" she countered.

"If the policy of the apartment is not to have pets..."

"What if we didn't keep it?"

"I'm not sure I follow," he said, hooking his thumb in his belt loop.

"If we can't have pets in the apartments themselves, why couldn't we have a communal pet? Here at the laundromat?"

"While I think the pet clause in the lease doesn't necessarily address the laundry room, I'm not sure the landlord would see the loophole."

Ellie, however, was already beyond smitten. "She needs a good laundry name."

Casey frowned. "Are you talking about, like, Detergent?" _Or Lint_, he added in his mind, but he wasn't sure that one was any better than Detergent, not to mention Ellie might take offense to it on behalf of the kitten.

"Kind of," she said. "Y'know, there's Bounce... Tide..."

"Tide with bleach..."

She wrinkled her nose at his suggestion. "Wait, I know! Snuggle!"

"You aren't talking about one of those awful backwards robe things they sell on TV, are you?" he asked, unable to prevent a wince.

"No, no, the fabric-softener teddy bear," she told him. "Y'know? Snuggle?"

Casey was somewhat familiar with the deranged puppet, sure. "Whatever you think is best." He watched as the kitten squirmed in Ellie's hands, checking out its surroundings, curiously looking her over. It didn't seem like a cat that wanted to snuggle, so perhaps that might be too much of a misnomer. "What about Downy?"

She glanced up at him.

"I mean, that is the brand that the bear is the mascot for, is it not?"

"Downy," she said, scooping up the kitten as it tried to crawl down her pant leg. She nodded, looking at the cat's sweet face. "I think Downy is perfect."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	2. Acknowledgment and Acceptance

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: It's Laundry Day at Echo Park, and Casey and Ellie find a kitten. In spite of the no-pet policy, they adopt her as a laundromat pet and name her Downy.

* * *

Acknowledgment and Acceptance

* * *

That first drizzly Sunday, Casey took Downy to a pet store, where he purchased a collar with a name tag, a litter box, and a bed for her. As he set up the litter box in a corner of the apartment complex's laundry room, Ellie opened a can of tuna and added a splash of milk to a bowl for her.

The next Sunday, warmer though still overcast, Ellie took Downy to the vet, for a check up, shots and spaying. Casey tried to ignore the smile from Ellie as he gave the kitten a catnip mouse. After all, it had to have been a somewhat traumatic day.

The Sunday after that, Downy played with one of Casey's infernal Buy More polos as he waited to start his second load.

"So, there's a use for those after all, huh?" Casey asked, watching as she pawed at a collar. He glanced up as the door opened, surprised to see Ellie there, still juggling two laundry baskets. Wordlessly, he stood, taking them from her.

"Thank you, John, so much."

He offered a slight nod, setting them on the table for her.

"How's our girl?"

"She likes that green color as much as I do, apparently," he said, glancing in his own hamper as Downy chewed on the very corner.

Ellie grinned broadly.

Casey leaned against the washer as she loaded it. "What's the excuse today?" he asked, knowing Devon preferred one of the laundromats downtown.

She glanced up at him before returning to her sorting. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said as innocently as she could.

He smirked, offering a slight grunt--acknowledgment and acceptance of her not wanting to discuss it.

She swiftly loaded one washer, followed by the other. "Have you heard anything from the other tenants about her?"

"Mrs. Heditsian thought she was adorable. I don't think Chuck or Morgan know we have a laundromat. Haven't heard anything from the landlord. And, I did a quick check," he said. "No one in the building is allergic, so I think we're safe."

"How do you do a quick check? Run Downy by for a meet-and-greet?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he repeated.

She grinned up at him--acknowledgment and acceptance of his not wanting to discuss it. "I have to work late tomorrow, do you think you could feed her?"

Provided nothing constituting a national emergency arose, he should be able to. "No problem."

She glanced back at Downy, who was really starting to do a number on his collar. "You aren't worried about tears or holes?"

He shrugged.

Ellie didn't mind taking up both remaining machines because it provided at least an hour where she could hang out with Downy and Casey. Once both were filled and started, she leaned against the machine with Casey, glancing down at the kitten, who'd started pawing around, getting comfortable before laying down. She couldn't help but smile. "She really likes you."

"She really likes my clothes," he said, glancing over at Ellie, taking in her blue jeans and sneakers and the well-worn tee shirt.

She looked up at him slowly. Did that man ever wear a color that wasn't black? Or Buy More green? She cleared her throat. "Well, you're an extension of your clothes, so I would say Downy still thinks you're tops..."

He wasn't sure he bought that reasoning, but he let it slide. What he didn't let slide, however, was the feeling that she'd just checked him out. He hadn't made that up. Her hazel--or, technically, they might've been light brown--eyes had raked up his body, starting at his shoes, easing up his dark wash jean legs, hesitating on his chest for longer than a casual glance, before finally meeting his own baby blues.

Given her near instant break of eye contact and the slight pink tinge that took to her cheeks as she'd cleared her throat to speak, he knew for absolute certain that he'd been right.

But, why him? Why would she look at him like that? A perfectly respectable, honorable, _married_ woman looking at a confirmed bachelor, practically married to his job and his country. After all, he'd had an opportunity for his own American dream and had given it up to serve. There was no turning back now, no time machine, no mulligans.

He was just a guy who worked a cover job at the Buy More, moving large appliances and adopting stray cats in laundromats in between saving the world at least once a week.

Ellie didn't look at other guys, not the way she'd just looked at him. What was worse, she'd managed to telegraph it to him. For a split second, she would've loved to have been an ostrich, to bury her head in the sand and try to forget about what she'd just done. But, what was done, was done. There was no going back, no do-over, no magic eraser. And if he wasn't going to say anything about it, she wouldn't either. Maybe they could just agree, in silence, to never discuss it again.

As she watched Downy snuggle deeper into Casey's laundry, however, she realized, on the surface, it was very easy to explain why she'd done it. After all, he was a tall, broad-shouldered guy. And she'd always found those attributes attractive. And his blue eyes were mysterious. They were harsh and unforgiving at one instance but, in the next, they could be soft and compassionate, if only for a moment. There were flickers of humor, too, not to mention vast intelligence. If they were the windows to his soul, she found it to be a deeply complex place. She found herself wishing she knew one tenth of whatever secrets resided there, because they had to be good ones.

"So, can I ask you something?" she asked, turning to face him properly.

He didn't take his eyes off the cat but he dipped his head slightly.

"What brought you to the Burbank Buy More?"

_A rogue spy sent an e-mail to his old college roommate..._ "That's a long story."

"I've got time if you do."

"I'm not a terribly interesting guy, Ellie."

"I find that hard to believe."

He looked over at her, at the inquisitiveness in her eyes, the openness of her expression. "Y'know, curiosity killed the cat... And I think we're both a little too attached to Downy for that to happen."

"Tell me someday?"

He smiled at her persistence. "Maybe."

She'd have to settle for that.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	3. Missing in Action

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie and Casey continue to care for their adopted kitten Downy in the laundromat at the apartment. In addition to hanging out with Downy, they start taking notice of each other.

* * *

Missing in Action

* * *

She looked at the empty machine, finding it troubling. Casey should've been there. It had become rote, pattern. Sundays at two in the afternoon, he was there, with one load already finished and one more to go. It troubled Ellie so much she wished she hadn't started both her loads at once. Because, she'd hate to leave him alone if he were to come later.

Of course, he wouldn't be alone. Downy was there.

And, technically, she wasn't alone either, as she held the squirmy kitten in her lap. It had been a month since she and Casey had found her. "Where's John, huh?" she asked as Downy attempted to crawl out of her hands. She smiled a little, but there was a sadness to it. "You miss him, too, don't you?" After all, Downy was usually curled up in Casey's laundry basket by now.

She eased the cat onto the floor and moved to glance out the window. The familiar Crown Victoria was still parked at the building, so surely that meant he was there, didn't it?

It was silly, she decided, shaking her head. There was no need to go getting all bent out of shape. The man was a grown adult. If he didn't want to do his laundry, or didn't need to do it, that was certainly his prerogative. It was just that it was a nice way to kill part of her Sunday afternoon.

But, his absence was still bothering her later that night, as she tried desperately to fall asleep. It just wasn't like him, to miss out on something. He had a schedule, a regimen. She didn't know much about Casey personally, but she knew that he was dependable like clockwork and the fact that, that day, he hadn't been... It was upsetting.

Unable to lay awake and stare at the ceiling any longer, she quietly climbed out of bed and, after grabbing her robe, she headed down the stairs. She pulled a glass from the cabinet in the kitchen, and filled it with water from the dispenser on the fridge. She took a long sip, but it did little to settle her racing brain.

She sighed heavily, realizing she was losing sleep over someone who was completely capable of making his own decisions about when to do his _laundry_.

It didn't ease her mind enough, however, to make her think she could go to bed.

Fighting a sigh, she decided to check on Downy. It would give her a purpose for being up so late that didn't include wondering about her neighbor. She stepped into the sandals by the door and decided her pajamas with the robe were courtyard-appropriate for a brief trip.

As she crossed towards the laundry room, however, she noted that Casey's apartment was still dark. Maybe he was out for the night at a girlfriend's house. Or, out for a beer with the guys from the Buy More.

She just couldn't see the latter option as particularly likely or even plausible. She was well aware of the caliber of people that worked at the electronics superstore. And she just couldn't see him choosing to spend his off hours with any of them, with the lone exception of her brother. But, Chuck had been off with Sarah all that afternoon and into the late evening.

And, surely, if there was a woman in Casey's life, she might've seen an inkling of it. Leaving his apartment with a bouquet of flowers or a nice bottle of wine. Chatting with Chuck about a double-date. Something.

She paused when she realized the light was on in the laundry room. She knew she'd turned it off when she'd left earlier that afternoon.

* * *

His face hurt. His back was sore. All of his muscles just screamed out in agony as he loaded all three washing machines. His normal care and concern for the rest of the apartment complex was gone by a quarter to midnight. The mission that day had taken a lot more out of him than he initially realized.

He stiffened, abandoning the task at hand when the door to the laundromat opened. Ever at the ready, his hand was on the gun in the back waistband of his jeans, his nerves still on-edge from the battle earlier in the day.

His bravado, his strength, however, faded when he recognized her.

She gasped when she saw the angry, swollen lump on his cheek. "John..."

He went back to casually filling the machines. "Hey."

"What happened?"

He didn't answer. He merely focused on getting his laundry started as quickly as possible, because he had an annoyingly early shift at the Buy More in the morning.

She slowly crossed to him. "John."

He glanced at her, his blue eyes guarded, even a little nervous.

Downy moved between them, rubbing up against Ellie's leg.

She realized, the more she looked up into his blue eyes, the less likely he was going to be telling her anything. "At least, let me get you some ice..."

"Ellie, you don't..." He drifted off, realizing he was talking to the back of her retreating form. He sighed, adding soap to the machines and starting each of them. He dropped into one of the incredibly uncomfortable folding chairs, his back protesting vehemently. His recliner in his apartment sounded so much more comfortable.

Downy wasted no time before climbing up in his lap, padding around on his blue jeans before she found the spot that was most comfortable and curling up.

He smiled a little, letting his fingers drift through the calico's soft fur. "Sorry I missed our normal time," he told her.

Ellie returned a few moments later with an ice pack, a bottle of aspirin, and her glass of water. "Here," she murmured, crossing to him. She held out the painkillers first.

He reluctantly took it, opening the bottle and pouring four tablets out into his palm.

Downy seemed intrigued by the sound the pills made within the bottle and even tried to paw at it.

He tossed all four into his mouth before accepting the glass, downing them all with a big gulp. "You didn't need to bring the ice. It's fine," he assured her.

Except, as she took the bottle and the glass back, she eased the cold compress onto his cheek.

He let out a slight, contented grunt, closing his eyes at the relief.

"That's what I thought," she murmured.

He reached up, to take the ice pack from her, their fingers barely touching for only a hint of a moment.

Ellie tucked her dark hair behind her ear. "I'll see you next Sunday?" she asked. "Regular time?"

He looked up at her. "Barring any other unforeseen disaster."

She nodded. She was desperate to keep asking him what had happened until he relented and told her, but she was feeling surprisingly tired now that she knew he wasn't off in the great unknown. "Take care of yourself, John," she murmured.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	4. Out in the Wash

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey misses his normal laundry time due to a mission. Ellie finds him much later, bruised and battered, and, even though he won't answer her questions, does what she does best: takes care of him, as much as he'll let her.

* * *

Out in the Wash

* * *

Another Sunday, another laundry day. Casey walked into the laundromat at the apartment, setting his hamper on the ground as he normally did, smiling to himself as Downy made a beeline for it. The calico had managed to make a spot in his heart as she normally did in his basket. "You have to let me get some of them out first, cat," he told her.

Downy, however, was oblivious, pawing her way into resting in one of his black shirts.

"Easy on those," he said, carefully picking her up before removing his mission clothes and putting them in the washer.

She watched curiously as Casey dropped what she'd been looking forward to curling up in inside drum of the washer. She even reached out a paw, as if to catch it as it fell.

He scratched the top of her head before placing her back on top of his Buy More uniforms. "Go to town," he told her. As he busied himself with the process of measuring the soap, the door opened and Ellie wandered in, with only one hamper this week. "Hey."

"Hi," she returned, smiling at him, as she crossed towards the machine next to his.

He couldn't help but notice, in addition to the detergent and fabric softener that rested in the top of her hamper, there was also a bag of cat treats. He smirked.

She set the treats aside, making quick work of loading the remaining two machines. Once they began filling with water, she looked up at Casey, who was watching as Downy sniffed about in his hamper, finding her spot of the week.

He felt her eyes on him but he didn't turn. He knew it wasn't a casual glance, nor was it another instance of her checking him out. He figured that had been a one-time thing. He knew that, even if her last name was Woodcomb, she was still a Bartowski at heart and there were dozens of questions she wanted answers to. If she was anything like her brother at all, he knew that they'd come eventually. There was no point in encouraging her since it was inevitable.

Except, they didn't come. With a sigh, Ellie grabbed the bag of treats and made her way towards the chair nearest his hamper and Downy. "Hey, sweetie," she murmured, opening the bag and selecting one. "How 'bout it, huh?" she asked, holding it out to the cat.

Downy, who'd just gotten comfortable, looked curiously at the nibble in Ellie's outstretched hand. Getting back to her feet, the kitten ambled forward, sniffing at it first.

"There's my girl," Ellie said with a soft sigh. "Go ahead."

Eagerly, Downy accepted the treat, chewing as she returned to the spot she'd vacated.

"In addition to pet hair, I'm going to have kibble crumbs in my clothes."

"It'll come out in the wash," Ellie said, refastening the bag and tossing it in her laundry basket.

Casey chanced a glance at Ellie, noting well that her eyes didn't hold the usual warmth or softness. He didn't like that. Taking a slow breath, he eased to sit down beside her. For several more moments, he just watched Downy. The cat was content to lay there, creating more silence. More silence he found himself surprisingly unable to take. "I can't tell you everything," Casey began slowly.

"I don't want to know everything. I want to know what you did last weekend where you came home looking like you'd gone a round with Tyson."

"There was a fight," he began, looking at his hands, at the subtle scars that were still on his knuckles.

"You don't strike me as the kind of guy that would get into a random bar brawl."

He glanced over at her, seeing the curiousness now in her eyes. "I'm not."

"Then...?"

"I was protecting someone," he said simply.

She was quiet for a moment before she decided to go fishing. "She's a lucky girl."

He scoffed, greatly amused. "It wasn't a girl."

Her eyes widened and her eyebrows drifted up her forehead. She hadn't considered _that _possibility at all. "W-well, then," she began, sputtering only a little, "he's a very lucky guy..."

He sat up a little straighter, aghast at her implication. "No, Ellie... No, not... it wasn't _anything_ like that. _At all_."

"Oh, I..."

"It was your brother."

Her brow furrowed. "Chuck?"

"He got in a little over his head on..." He cleared his throat, reminding himself that it was definitely not the _mission_ where Chuck had gotten into trouble. "On his _date_ with Sarah. Your brother means well, but he can be a little... talkative. And a little annoying sometimes."

"So you defended him? You got all..." She reached out, guiding his chin slightly to the left, so she could see the remnants of what had been a great knot under his right eye. The redness was gone as was the swelling, but there was a slight, barely noticeable bruise left behind. Her fingertips were oh-so-light against the yellowing mass.

His breath caught in his throat at her touch.

"For... for Chuck?" she whispered, trying to remember where her train of thought was going because, clearly, it had just derailed.

It was interesting to him, this circular pattern to the whole thing. He'd taken the brunt of the physical beating for Chuck. Chuck's sister had helped get him back on the road to recovery afterward. He would've shrugged, except he was afraid any movement might've broken whatever spell they found themselves under. The air between them was charged, different. He didn't want her to look away, he didn't want her to pull back from him. He would never admit it aloud, but he liked the closeness of her. He felt drawn to her. He finally managed a quiet, affirmative grunt.

Ellie let her fingers drift down his cheek, feeling the rough stubble on her way down to his tightening jaw. She could sense his strength, his power. She had a feeling there was still so much more to John Casey, so much lying just below his gruff exterior, beneath the unassuming Buy More green.

She gasped, shocked, when her cell phone began to ring. "Excuse me," she breathed, getting to her feet and pulling the phone from the pocket of her jeans. She recognized the number from the hospital and had a dread feeling she was going to be moving directly to her car. Clearing her throat, she answered it. "This is Dr. Woodcomb..."

Casey exhaled slowly, looking at Downy who had grown tired of his hamper and was wandering around the laundry room, jumping up on one of the empty dryers before finding her way to the table and Ellie's hamper. He wondered if she knew that was where Ellie had tossed her treats.

"Of course, I'll be right there..." She hung up, closing her eyes and counting quietly to three before turning to face Casey. She replaced the phone in her pocket, running her fingers through her long hair. "That was Westside," she said. "Emergency, all hands on deck kind of a thing..."

"Go," Casey told her.

She started to point towards the washers.

Casey stood. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"It's what neighbors, what... friends... do, right?"

"Yeah," she murmured.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	5. Murder Or a Heart Attack

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Additionally, borrowing the title for this chapter from a wonderful song by Old 97s. No copyright infringement intended there either.

Surprise! Laundry, not just for Sundays... ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey confesses to Ellie that the reason he showed up the week before bruised and battered was because he was protecting Chuck.

* * *

Murder (Or a Heart Attack)

* * *

Casey frowned when he spotted Chuck heading straight towards him. The kid had a look of deep concern etched into his features for a Tuesday. And, it was supposed to be the Intersect's day off from the Buy More. "Bartowski," Casey said.

"I'm kinda at my wits' end here, Casey, so, whatever you do, don't grunt or grumble or threaten me, 'cause I really don't think I can take it at the moment."

Casey narrowed his eyes. "What's going on?"

Chuck took a slow breath. "Ellie is freaking out. You think _I _freak out? She's _beyond_ freaked out. And she's saying stuff that Awesome and I can't really decode, so I thought maybe, possibly, you might've picked something up on one of your routine audio scans that might explain why she's scouring the apartment complex for lost fabric softener."

"Downy?"

Chuck nodded.

Casey sprinted past him, out the front door and across the parking lot.

"Hey, big guy, wait!" Chuck called back to no avail.

* * *

Devon watched as his wife frantically continued her search. He didn't understand why she was in near hysterics, muttering about why she hadn't taken a photo before. And something about the collar. For the life of him, he didn't have any idea what she was talking about. He'd seen her get annoyed at the dry cleaners before, when they'd nearly ruined one of her dresses on accident. But, even that incident hadn't been anywhere near this bad.

"I'll buy you a new shirt, sweetheart, if that's all it is..." Devon pleaded.

Ellie's Tasmanian devil-inspired whirlwind died suddenly, stopping eerily on a dime to look back at her husband. "It's not about _clothes_, Devon!"

"I get it, it's about the Snuggle, but, what about this," he said, looking at the bottle of generic fabric softener in his hands. "Won't this do till we go back to the store? Or, you could take it and I'll run get the right kind right now."

Before she had an opportunity to respond, she saw a late-model black Ford Crown Victoria pull into its parking spot. Casey would understand. She rushed towards the car. As she reached the sidewalk, he emerged, holding a familiar puffball of fur in his hands. "Oh, John..."

Casey held the cat out to her, and she gratefully accepted it, closing her eyes.

"Thank you. Where on Earth did you find her?"

"Not far," he said truthfully. He just really hoped she didn't ask him _how_ he'd found her. That would be another question that would have a lie for an answer, and he hated lying to her. It would seem strange if he'd told her the truth. Because, why would a random guy from the Buy More install a GPS device in their kitten's collar?

She closed her eyes. "Scared me to death, Downy," she murmured.

"What happened?" Casey asked, hoping to head her questions off at the pass.

She took a slow breath, letting her fingers get lost in Downy's soft fur. "I went to feed her, but the door to the laundromat was wide open and she was _nowhere_."

"She's all right," Casey assured her. He leaned in and quietly added: "So are you."

She smiled up at him a little.

"El? Hey, Casey," Devon said, finally catching up to them.

Casey nodded to him. "Woodcomb."

"Whoa," Devon said, surprised to see the creature in his wife's arms. "Who's this?"

"This is Downy," Ellie told him, turning the cat around to take a look at her husband.

Casey wasn't sure why there was a twinge of jealousy as Devon reached out and patted the top of Downy's head, but there was.

"That would explain why you weren't interested in this at all," he commented, looking at the bottle of fabric softener he still held.

Casey cleared his throat. "I have to get back." He fought a grumble as he admitted: "Shift's not over yet."

"Thank you, John," Ellie said again, reaching out and touching his arm lightly.

Casey nodded.

* * *

He wasn't surprised where he found Ellie later that night. She was sitting on one of those uncomfortable folding chairs, dancing a long piece of bright red yarn in front of Downy, who chased after it happily, occasionally pouncing on the fraying end. Knowing they were both safe, he decided to quietly head back to his apartment and call it a night, except he heard a voice call out to him.

"John? Is that you?"

Quietly, he pushed the door open and leaned against the jamb.

Downy, hearing movement behind her, abandoned her string for the newcomer, meowing softly as she tried to play with his shoelaces.

Casey scooped the cat up, whispering to her. "You're not supposed to scare your mom like that," he murmured. Of course, the kitten had no interest in what he was saying at all, deciding to attack the collar of his green polo instead. Casey eased his chin out of the way as she played.

Ellie watched as Casey sat down beside her. "I probably _greatly_ overreacted today," she commented.

"You were worried. It's understandable."

"I really appreciate you taking time out of your work day to find her."

He smiled a little at her. "How often do you get to save the day?" He added in his head: _and let someone know that it was you who did it_.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	6. Twenty Questions, Part 1

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Downy slips away from the laundromat and Ellie is in a panic. It's Casey to the rescue, thanks to a GPS tracker implanted in the cat's collar.

* * *

Twenty Questions, Part 1

* * *

Downy sat on the chair between them, curled up asleep. She'd long since grown tired of the game where the adults merely sat there and looked at each other and spoke.

"Favorite vacation spot?" Ellie asked.

He had to pause, to think about that.

"That one's not an instant answer?"

"Not necessarily," Casey said.

She sat, impatiently waiting, watching as the gears in Casey's head clearly turned. "You have actually _been_ on vacation before, haven't you?"

"Well, I've been to traditional 'vacation' spots, but not necessarily for a little rest or relaxation."

"You could tell me your favorite vacation spot where you worked, if you were really so inclined..."

Costa Gravas, while a recovering Communist nation, had been a pretty place to spend several months if you could get past the grenades, rocket launchers, and sniper skirmishes. Prague had always been intriguing to him, though not because that was where he'd first met the illusive DEA agent Carina. He missed Washington D.C. and Fort Meade, places steeped in patriotism and history. And there was always Dubai, home of Weap-Con.

But, could he actually call any of those his favorite?

"I guess I'd have to say... Italy."

Ellie's eyebrows drifted up her forehead. "You've been?"

"A few times."

"For work? What kind of work took you to Italy? 'Cause I can't imagine it was the Buy More."

"I thought it was my turn to ask you something now," Casey challenged.

Ellie opened her mouth, paused, then sighed. "All right, fine, but, be prepared, 'cause that's my next question."

He grunted, amused. But, at least he had a few more minutes to try to think of a good cover story for his work trips abroad. After a moment, a slow smile took to his lips, for all of two seconds. "Most embarrassing moment?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I ask you a light, fluffy question and you respond with... _that_?"

It was a calculated risk, hoping that she'd ask him the same instead of having to answer about Italy. He shrugged.

"You can be a mean man, Mr. Casey."

"You're stalling, Dr. Woodcomb."

She wrinkled her nose. "You noticed that, did you?"

"We could adjust the rules if you wanted to. We could veto one question each."

She weighed that option for a moment. "You might ask a worse question, one I _really, absolutely_ don't want to answer, instead of one that will just turn my face beet red."

Casey shrugged innocently. "Well, that would be the strategy, wouldn't it?"

"All right. I accept your veto rule amendment, but I'll..." She took a slow breath. "I'll answer."

He nodded slightly.

"I can't believe I'm going to confess this to you..."

"You're a brave soul," he told her.

She laughed a little, tucking her hair nervously behind her ears. "I hadn't been at the hospital very long, maybe six months. They had asked me to give some presentation to a group of high schoolers, a pre-med club?"

He nodded, not quite sure where this story was headed.

"So I give this awesome speech, about how important medicine is, how great it is to be a doctor. Everything goes well. I ended on some brilliant note, something about taking steps to the future... And as I move to leave the podium, I tripped over my own shoelaces, in front of this group of probably fifty kids, their teachers, and another ten or fifteen of my colleagues." She was surprised, and thankful, that all he did was offer her a slight smile. "But, for probably a _year_ after, I was known around the entirety of Westside as..." She mumbled the rest of it.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Casey asked.

She mumbled it again, a little louder.

His hearing was better than most, but he still couldn't make it out. "Ellie?"

She sighed, reaching down to cover Downy's ears, as if the cat would somehow reveal her most embarrassing moment around the apartment complex. "Dr. Twinkle-toes," she managed. "They even had a lab coat made up with that embroidered on it!"

He couldn't help it then. The chuckle that emerged was warm, throaty.

Ellie huffed. "And your most embarrassing moment? How 'bout it?"

He sobered nearly instantly. He didn't hem or haw or try to avoid the question. He didn't use his veto when he could've. Instead, he answered as honestly as he could: "Losing my job in front of respected, trusted colleagues."

"The job before you came to the Buy More?"

He nodded slowly. Kinda, sorta, he decided. After all, he'd been with the NSA before he came to L.A. It just so happened that he'd continued that job while at the Buy More. And he had subsequently gotten it back. But it was still his most depressing, most embarrassing, most humiliating moment.

It still troubled him, trying to salute Beckman but getting a mere handshake in return. He cleared his throat, ready to ask her another question when the dryers began to buzz, signaling that their cycles were finally finished. "Saved by the bell, I guess," he told her.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	7. Secrets

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie and Casey play a round of Twenty Questions, including most embarrassing moments, while waiting on their laundry. Downy sleeps contentedly between them.

* * *

Secrets

* * *

Downy sat in Casey's lap, perfectly still, while Ellie watched curiously.

"What's your secret?" she asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Casey looked up at her, alarmed. Secrets? He had plenty of them, but he couldn't tell her any. "Come again?" he asked over the sound of the washing machines as they all hit the spin cycle simultaneously.

"How do you _do_ that?" Ellie asked.

"Do what?"

"Get her to sit still like that? Anytime I pick her up, she's ready to go somewhere, anywhere, else."

Casey shrugged slightly before lifting Downy easily with one hand. He offered her to Ellie.

"See? Watch," Ellie said, placing the cat in her lap.

The moment Downy was left unattended, the cat got up, stretched, and bounded back to Casey.

"You didn't lace your pockets with catnip before you came, did you?" she asked, her eyes accusatory.

He arched an eyebrow. "Definitely not."

"Then, what are you, the Cat Whisperer?"

Casey snickered, almost more of a snort, as he again picked up the cat. Except, this time, instead of offering it to Ellie, he stood, moving to sit in the chair right next to his neighbor and laundry companion.

The sudden nearness of him changed the room dynamics. No longer casual or effortless, Ellie felt like the room was now supercharged. Her arm had been draped across the back of the chair between them and, when he sat, she'd felt his shoulders brush against her skin. Heat radiated off him. She couldn't immediately remove her hand or arm from his chair, because she didn't want him to think that he was making her uncomfortable.

Because, it wasn't uncomfortableness. It was something else. Something different. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

He sensed the change in her breathing first. It became a little erratic, faster at times, shallower at others. He didn't comment on it. He didn't want to draw attention to it. "I think," he said slowly, "that she'll come around."

Ellie wondered, briefly, which _she_ he was referring to. She figured, really, it had to be Downy. Reluctantly, she pulled her arm away from him, resting both hands in her lap, watching as the kitten wandered from Casey's right leg to his left. "She's been with us almost two months now."

"She knows who loves her," he said, chancing a glance over at Ellie.

Her expression was cautious, bordering on disbelief. Her watchful eyes were on the kitten as it searched for a place to sit. "Yeah. Apparently just you," she said softly as caution and disbelief darkened, giving way to dejection.

He didn't like seeing that look on her face. He'd give anything to make it go away, to banish it forever. It was like sadness personified and it killed him, to see that coming from her.

Downy rubbed against Casey's chest, and even tried to ease her head under his hand so that he'd have to pet her. When Casey didn't respond the way she wanted to, she tried again, even three times. Downy sniffed at his fingers before finally biting his thumb.

Casey, ever cool under pressure, didn't jerk his hand back. He didn't react at all.

Downy, however, turned and reached one hesitant paw out to Ellie's leg followed by the other. The front ones were soon joined the back two.

Ellie glanced up at Casey, a beautiful grin dawning on her face.

"See?"

Downy pawed at Ellie's leg.

Ellie only winced only a little when the clawing became a little too rough, but when the kitten finally relaxed, so did she. "I really do wish I knew how you did that."

He smiled knowingly. "Do what?"

She looked up at him, at the playful twinkle in his blue eyes. It was subtle and its duration, brief. As soon as it flickered and vanished, she missed it. She idly let her fingers drift through Downy's multicolored fur while the cat purred contentedly. "So little gets to you. So little bothers you. I saw her just try to bite you and, for a sweet, innocent little gal, Downy has really sharp teeth."

He shrugged.

"And the fact that you would step in and take a beating meant for my brother," she said, remembering back a few weeks ago. "And, seeing what the guys did to you... I mean, they'd have to be really big guys, really insanely strong men to hurt you."

He shook his head slowly.

"I've seen those muscles," she said, nodding towards his arm, "in action. I've seen you lift things, move things... The only person I can imagine doing any kind of damage to you whatsoever would have to be a big, big guy. A bigger guy. Like, one of those scary muscle-bound bodybuilders who could crush things with their knees..."

"I'm no Superman, Ellie."

"I know you've got secrets, though, John. And being Kal-El really would explain _so_ much at this point."

He reached up, brushing her hair back gently, his fingertips light on her ear for a fraction of a moment. "His alias was Clark Kent, star reporter for the Daily Planet. Not lowly appliance pusher at a Buy More."

"With the advent of cellular phones, phone booths themselves are all but gone... So, why not 'into a nearby refrigerator'?" she asked putting on her best cartoon announcer voice.

Casey smiled. "Can't be a Clark without a Lois. A no-nonsense partner with a nose for the truth..."

Ellie let that sink in for a moment, but her response wasn't what Casey was expecting. "So, you're admitting to living some double-life? To having an identity that's greater than John Casey, Buy More grunt?"

His smile turned into a smirk, and that playfulness she missed returned. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	8. Twenty Questions, Part 2

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Another Sunday passes with Ellie impressed with Casey's Cat Whispering skills. She accuses him of being Superman, which he denies. He can't be, because he's missing a Lois Lane.

* * *

Twenty Questions, Part 2

* * *

She watched him intently, her fingers lost in Downy's fur as the cat sat in her lap. "You're stalling."

"I'm not stalling. I'm thinking."

"I'm thinking that you're stalling," she said, a smile growing on her lips.

"There is a difference."

"I disagree."

"I say that your disagreement is stalling _and_ preventing me from being able to think about the question properly."

"I just don't understand how the simplest of questions give you the most trouble."

"That's yet another interesting observation on your part which is, again, preventing me from thinking about my response."

"I love how you're turning this back on me," Ellie said with a warm laugh. "C'mon, John. Worst job ever."

He wanted, desperately, to say the Buy More. But, it wasn't entirely bad. He wanted, desperately, to say the Human Intersect Project assignment. But, it wasn't entirely bad either. It was classified, but not entirely bad. He sighed. "I worked one summer in high school as the hot dog guy."

Her eyebrows drifted up her forehead. "The hot dog guy?"

"You know, the guy that dresses up in an inane costume, stands on the sidewalk and waves at cars that pass by..."

"You didn't."

"I did." It was part of why he'd jumped at the opportunity to work at the Buy More instead of the Wienerlicious for the cover aspect of his current assignment.

"Seriously?"

"Asked and answered, counselor," he challenged. "My turn." He eyed her for a moment. "Biggest regret?"

She inhaled slowly.

He made a rather large production out of looking at his watch.

She laughed. "What... what is _that_?"

"Well, if I have a limited amount of time to respond to these questions, I think you should, too."

"It's not for simple questions like your worst job ever or your favorite vacation spot. Biggest regret, that's a serious kind of question."

"Somehow I think someone's stalling."

"Stalling! I am not stalling. Right now, I'm _thinking_ that my biggest regret was asking you to play this game again."

He smiled. "Fair enough."

"Oh, that worked did it?"

He shrugged.

"What about you? What's your biggest regret?"

Casey was silent. Not knowing about his daughter. Missing out on fatherhood. He shook his head. "I don't have any."

"Not one?"

He shook his head. He was a spy. He lied for a living. How was this any different?

It was different because Ellie wasn't buying it. The way she looked at him, he could tell. The softness, the laughter that had been in her eyes mere seconds ago was gone now. "Challenge."

"What?"

"I'm challenging your answer. Like in Scrabble, when you don't believe it's a word, you get a chance to look it up in the dictionary."

"This isn't Scrabble. This is twenty questions."

"You made up the veto rule the last game."

"Well, what's the challenge rule?"

"The challenge rule is, if you don't believe the answer the other person gives... they have to give you another one. The _real_ one."

"Ask it again, then."

"John Casey, what is your biggest regret?"

"Veto."

"You're going to veto my challenge?"

"Yes."

"So, you lied to me the first time..."

"If you're not going to accept the answer the first time around so I have to give a different one... I'm not going to make something up." It had been painful enough admitting, truthfully, he'd used to dress up as a gigantic walking, talking, waving hot dog for money. He wasn't about to lie to her, and he wasn't about to tell her the truth. What would she think? How would she react? Maybe someday, he'd tell her. But not that day, not in the middle of their game.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	9. Creature Feature

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Also, very happy birthday to my dear friend Cindy Ryan! (5/27)

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: It's game afternoon again, and this time they learn about regrets. They also make up another rule for future games.

* * *

Creature Feature

* * *

Downy was scratching at Ellie's door when Casey rolled in late Thursday night. He frowned as he crossed towards her. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?" he asked as he scooped her up.

She meowed plaintively.

He hadn't picked her up incorrectly. Her back paws were supported. She wasn't at an odd angle. "What?" he asked, as though Downy were fully capable of responding intelligently.

As he looked in Downy's amber-colored eyes, he heard, very clearly, a terrified scream from within Ellie's apartment.

He didn't bother to set the cat down. He did, however, transfer her from his right hand to his left as he kicked the door in. "Ellie!" he called out, his right hand on the grip of his SIG Sauer.

He'd barely been able to finish calling out for her when the doctor in question barreled into his arms She almost knocked him into the courtyard. Downy jumped out of his hand and he left the government-issued weapon in the back of his khaki slacks as he wrapped his arms around her, visually assessing their surroundings. They seemed to be alone.

Ellie had a death-grip on his green polo shirt. She was trembling, breathing hard. He could feel her heart pounding.

"What happened?" He needed to know who he needed to chase down and throw in some undisclosed holding cell indefinitely. It had to be _someone_ given the way she was shaking.

She shook her head, burrowing deeper into his embrace which, oddly, briefly, reminded him of Downy on laundry day in his hamper.

With strong yet gentle hands on her upper arms, he eased her away from his chest, so he could see her face, so he could see if she was hurt, so he could see what kind of assistance she needed. When he realized he still couldn't see because of her hair, he reached out, brushing it back from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

"Just... we could pretend this didn't happen," she said quietly.

He could still see the vestiges of her pure panic and terror. It was visible in her eyes, in the tension still in her jaw. It was then he heard the TV in the background. The screaming, the gushing of blood, the crushing of bones, all creepily accompanied by staccato, screeching music.

She still held onto his shirt, her hands locked into place at his sides.

He moved forward, with her attached to him, until he was able to reach the large flat-screen television at the front of the living room, turning off the horror movie that was playing.

"I hate scary movies," Ellie admitted in a whisper.

"Then, why were you watching it?" It wasn't an accusatory question. His voice was soft, simple.

"Well, Devon was here when it started. And he got called into the hospital... and then it was kind of like watching a train wreck? At some point I got so scared, I threw the remote. I have _no _idea where it went."

"Why don't you sit down?"

She looked up at him fretfully and he could feel the tug of the green material across his stomach and back as she pulled more of his shirt into her fists. With her hands at his sides, thankfully she remained unaware of the gun at his back.

Casey adjusted his plan. He eased an arm loosely around her, guiding her towards the kitchen.

She watched as he retrieved a glass from the cabinet before filling it with ice and water from the refrigerator dispenser.

She reluctantly released his shirt from her right hand, accepting the glass. "I know it's silly," she said, the ice chinking against each other as she was still shaking. "I know they make those movies locally, for the most part, but... it's just... I mean... The goal of those films is to startle you, to scare you. And they work _so_ well on me..."

"It's okay, Ellie." What wasn't okay was the broken door. He let out a slight sigh as he looked back at it. The jamb was broken in two places, not to mention there was the gigantic footprint centered in the lower half of the door. "But, you can't stay here."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking up at him.

He gestured towards her door.

Her eyes grew wide. "You did that?"

"You screamed. Thought you were in trouble."

She winced slightly. The landlord was going to be delighted.

Downy, who'd been exploring the living room, wandered into the kitchen, spotting her owners. She easily jumped onto the kitchen counter, sniffing at the toaster oven and the blender.

"That door isn't going to lock, not until it's fixed. Let me put you up in a hotel for the night."

She looked up at him. "John, it was entirely my fault. I screamed, you reacted, that's not... that's not your fault."

"I know a guy who can fix that, have it back to normal by the morning," he said. "But you don't need to be here for it. We can find some place that accepts pets. You and Downy can stay till Devon gets off work... on the one condition that you don't watch any more scary movies tonight."

"Definitely not. John..."

He looked down at her. He allowed one brief, stray thought to enter his mind. She fit so perfectly in his arms, against him. Okay, _two_ thoughts. It was nice, to be needed by her.

"Thank you."

"Go pack. I'll drive you ladies. We'll get Chuck to watch the place till I can get back."

"You really don't have to, though, I... I can drive, and I can... I can pay for the hotel... and for your friend who can fix the door."

He just looked at her, fixing that intense blue gaze on her. She was still on-edge, still nervous. She was in no state to drive.

She inhaled deeply, relenting. "I... I'll go pack." She still had a handful of green material in her left hand, in a white-knuckle grip. She slowly released him.

He watched as she crossed through the living room, heading up the stairs to the bedroom. He glanced at Downy when he could no longer see Ellie. "How 'bout it?" he asked, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "Want to explore somewhere new?"

He inhaled slowly. He was going to have a long night ahead of him.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	10. A La Mode

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Very happy birthday to the one and only Baschashe!

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Ellie watches a scary movie and Casey and Downy think she's really in trouble.

* * *

A La Mode

* * *

Casey got to his feet as Ellie entered the laundry room that Sunday. She carried both her usual laundry baskets, as well as a small picnic basket over her left arm. He moved to help, as usual.

"Hey, John," she said cheerfully, decidedly a very different Ellie than he'd seen on Thursday.

"Hey," he returned, setting her laundry baskets on the folding table.

Downy meowed excitedly, jumping from Casey's laundry basket to the table and immediately into one of Ellie's.

"Guess you ladies were able to really connect earlier this week, huh?" Casey commented.

Ellie shrugged. "I think she just liked having somewhere else to go, some new things to look at... And probably a person-bed to sleep in." She smiled a little. "She almost wouldn't let Devon in either."

Casey chuckled, scratching Downy affectionately behind her ears.

"I really want to thank you, John. You really did go above and beyond the call of neighborly, friendly duty this week."

"It was no trouble."

She looked up at him. "I mean it. While I'm sure Morgan would... try... to help in that kind of a situation, I don't think he'd be able to succeed. Chuck, too. I..." She got lost in his unquestioning, humble eyes. Didn't he know he was a hero? "I just really... I really appreciate it," she finished quietly, getting back to the task of loading the other two machines.

Casey didn't know how to respond exactly. He wanted to tell her not to worry about it, not to mention it. It wasn't anything, really. All he'd done was put her up in a nice hotel and called one of the CIA contractors, the ones who work so quickly and efficiently to put the Buy More back together after the occasional shootout. It was insane, the speed in which the contractor was able to replace the broken jamb and fix the door. Really, he could've just taken Ellie out for a late coffee somewhere and by the time they'd finished sipping and chatting, her apartment would've been as good as new again.

He tried not to dwell on that, on taking her out for coffee, just the two of them. As Downy nibbled at his finger, he realized, the three of them.

Ellie moved the empty hamper off the table, sliding it underneath, and opened the picnic basket she'd brought. "Since you won't let me repay you for the hotel, or for the door repair, I thought I'd make you something," she said. She pulled out two plates first, and two forks and napkins, followed by a large spoon and a serving fork and knife set.

Downy, curious, immediately jumped out of the hamper to investigate.

Casey, however, scooped up the kitten, holding her safely and securely as she tried desperately to see what Ellie was up to. He was sure, too, that Downy could smell it. And it smelled wonderful. In spite of his trained spy-reflexes, his mouth watered as Ellie lifted a pecan pie from within. "Ellie," he managed, groaning softly.

She bit her lower lip, preventing herself from smiling too broadly at his reaction. She could see the desire, the surprise. She set it on the table, followed immediately by a small carton of vanilla ice cream. "Would you care for a slice?"

"I would love some."

Ellie wordlessly plated two generous helpings of the still-warm pie, and scooped a big spoonful of ice cream over top of each.

He watched, somewhat curiously, as she took a smaller spoonful and eased it into Downy's bowl. At seeing the treat for herself, Downy finally wriggled out of Casey's grasp and crossed towards it. They both watched as she sniffed at it at first, before giving the ice cream a cautious taste test.

Ellie laughed softly as Downy attacked the frozen treat with abandon. Setting down the ice cream container, she handed a plate to Casey.

"You didn't have to..."

"You didn't have to do what you did either," she said as they settled into the folding chairs to enjoy their afternoon snack. She loaded her fork with a bite of both pie and a bit of the ice cream, but she waited, watching Casey first.

He knew it was her favorite dessert. He was sure she'd spent hours that morning working on it, ensuring that it would be ready for their normally scheduled laundry time. The flavors exploded on his tongue. The warmth of the pie, the flakiness of the crust, the cool of the ice cream... It was sinfully sweet and just plain perfect. He couldn't prevent the pleased groan from escaping, though he had tried.

Ellie smiled to herself, enjoying her own first forkful.

"Ellie, this is incredible."

She'd fully been expecting the word "awesome" to end that sentence. It was surprising when it wasn't. It was surprisingly _nice_ when it wasn't. She heard "awesome" so often that it had lost a lot of its luster. She didn't fully trust "awesome" anymore. Was it really "awesome" or was Devon trying to placate her? Trying to save her feelings?

She knew for certain, though, that Casey liked it. Incredible wasn't "awesome." It was better than that.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, chancing a glance at him as he took another large mouthful of pie. "And there's plenty, if you want another slice..."

He looked back at her, at the tenderness in her eyes. She was happy, he could tell. It was nice to see that on her face. It nice to know that he'd helped make her that way. "I hope no one else was expecting a piece..."

She laughed softly. "It's all yours. Well, minus one," she said, looking at her plate.

"You're the only one I'd want to share it with," he said.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	11. Twenty Questions, Part 3

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie bakes Casey a pie in thanks for coming to her rescue. She also realizes that there are better things than being awesome.

* * *

Twenty Questions, Part 3

* * *

"That one's easy."

Ellie's eyebrows drifted up her forehead. "You mean, you have an answer already? One off the top of your head, not one you have to think about?"

Casey smirked. "Are you going to let me answer?"

"Please," she said, eager to hear it.

"A cowboy."

"You... That was your dream job?"

"As a child, yes."

"Cowboy John Casey?"

Cowboy Alex Coburn, but she didn't need to know that. He shrugged. "I was three."

And she was grinning like an idiot.

"What?"

"I'm just imagining, y'know, you... _tiny_... in cowboy boots and a hat and those little silver cap guns with the white plastic handles."

"Grips," he corrected.

"You had one of those stick horses, too, didn't you?" Her smile got even broader as he didn't answer outright but rather just cleared his throat. "_Please_ tell me your mother has a photo of that somewhere."

"I'm not confirming the existence of any potential blackmail material for you."

"Oh, come on. That is _too_ good to keep... pardner."

"What about you? What did you want to grow up to be?"

It was her turn to grow quiet.

He watched as Downy, bored with batting around a hackey sack Casey had confiscated from some kid at the Buy More, moved towards Ellie, taking up residence at her feet. He was learning that Downy was quite perceptive, more so than he ever realized possible. "You still have a veto," he reminded her gently.

"It's not that... It's just..." She looked up at him, at his kind eyes. They weren't judgmental. She knew he'd never repeat anything she said outside the confidence of the laundry room. It was just painful to think about. Painful to admit. "My dream job," she began slowly, "when I was a kid... it came true."

"Somehow, I think 'doctor' isn't what you're talking about."

She shook her head.

"I wanted to be a mother," she said. "I just didn't imagine I would take over that role from my own mom. That things would turn out quite the way that they did."

"Chuck's lucky to have you," he told her.

She smiled a little. "I like to think so. These days, I'm not so sure. It's..." She exhaled. "His life is going one way, it seems, and my life is going a completely different way... But that seems so completely impossible because we're all under the same roof. Not the same apartment anymore, but he's just across the courtyard. It's not like he's gone far... Or that I've abandoned him or anything."

"Sometimes life doesn't always turn out the way you intend for it to. Like me, never becoming a cowboy."

She smiled a little. "If there is a photo somewhere, John, be advised... I will find it."

"First, you would have to know who to contact."

"Never underestimate the power of a woman on a mission."

"I would never dare," he told her honestly.

"Who's turn is it?"

"Yours."

She inhaled slowly. "Well, instead of asking you something, can I amend a previous answer?"

He smiled. "You wanted to be a rock star, didn't you?"

She laughed, but it never met her eyes. "No, from the other week..."

He looked at her curiously.

"I just wanted to amend that I do have regrets."

He looked at her seriously.

She took a slow breath and, as she did so, Downy jumped into her lap. "Hey," she murmured, petting the cat as it tried to find a comfortable spot to sit. She met his eyes. "I regret a lot of things. I regret feeling like most of my childhood was my fault. That Mom left because of something I convinced myself that I did. Dad, too. I regret feeling like a pretty horrible failure when Chuck was kicked out of Stanford for not... for either not instilling enough confidence in him that he didn't have to steal things, or for not believing him when he said he didn't do it. Maybe both." She corrected herself again. "_Definitely_ both. I regret things that were completely and totally out of my control, and not being smart enough to realize that there was nothing I could do about them, about any of them, for wasting time thinking there was something else I could've done..."

Casey could feel her heartbreak. He wondered if Chuck knew, if Devon had any idea. Mostly, he wondered why she was confessing all of this to him.

"And I regret not believing you when you said you didn't have any. So, I hereby reinstate your veto... and if you have any idea on how to impart wisdom about... about not having them... I'd appreciate it."

"If I knew... If I knew how to tell you, Ellie, believe me, I would." The guilt was crushing, lying to her. The more time they spent together, the more time he was around her, the worse it felt, the more he was dying to tell her the truth.

"Well, just... for future reference. Whenever you figure out a way to share that knowledge...?"

"I'll tell you first."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	12. Creature Comforts

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie reveals information about her dream job in this round of Twenty Questions, and apologizes for not believing Casey before about regrets.

* * *

Creature Comforts

* * *

He'd seen some video at the Buy More of a Siamese cat chasing after the red dot of a laser pointer. Someone had managed to upload a virus through the otherwise innocuous flick and it had infected several computers the Nerd Herd was working to clean. It was much more user-friendly than the previous video virus he'd seen since coming to L.A. That Irene Demova thing had been deadly and decidedly x-rated.

But, the virus made him think about his cat.

While he didn't have a laser pointer that most normal civilians might've had, he did have one that fastened onto a sniper rifle. While it was, technically, an improper use of government equipment, it would've otherwise been sitting in storage in its case within the hidden compartment above his fireplace.

As Ellie was working late that afternoon at Westside, he figured it would be mostly safe to experiment with Downy and the scope.

He sat, watching as Downy pawed her way into his hamper for what seemed like the hundredth time. He couldn't bring himself to aim the laser at her directly. After all, he usually used it for aiming purposes when he intended to shoot to kill.

He aimed it at the floor in front of her.

She didn't notice it at first, not until he began dancing it around on the unfinished cement.

He smiled a little as her ears went from their normal position to angled slightly. He could see the transition in her muscles as she lowered herself, preparing to pounce.

Idly, he wondered what he looked like before he attacked, if it was anything like that. He stilled the light for a moment, watching as Downy slowly crept out of the hamper. He moved the beam jerkily towards her and she attacked, or tried to.

He chuckled as Downy nearly freaked out that there was nothing in her paws. "You are, without a doubt, one-half Bartowski." He moved the scope rapidly back in forth in front of her.

Downy again moved into her striking position.

Casey killed the beam, however, and Downy frantically tried to find it again.

He pulled out his cell phone, turning on the video camera. He centered Downy in the shot and hit the record button. "Ellie. Thought you might want to see this." He turned the laser scope on again and the change was nearly instant in Downy's demeanor. He danced it around in front of the cat, careful to keep her always in the camera's focus.

He was only able to capture about twenty seconds of Downy's following the laser before sending it to Ellie's phone.

* * *

She sat in a rarely used stairwell at the hospital, her head in her hands. She'd done everything she could but it still hadn't been enough. She had her own heart broken and then she had to shatter two others. It was, by far, the worst part of her job, having to tell someone that their loved one was gone. It was even worse when she had to tell parents of young children.

She'd been certain the little girl would be okay. She'd gotten everyone's hopes up only to have the rug pulled out from beneath them all.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't prevent a replay of the conversation. She could see the anxiousness in their eyes, followed by cautious optimism which had vanished in a heartbeat, giving away to pure grief.

There was screaming, wailing and enough tears shed to rival the Pacific.

She hadn't been able to spare the girl's parents' pain either.

She tried to remind herself that the darling angel with the big brown eyes and the dimpled smile wasn't hurting anymore. But, it did little to ease her own sorrows. The child's life had been cut so unfairly short. She'd never see her senior prom, or even experience the independence and freedom of college and adulthood. There would be no first car, no first kiss, no first love. There was so much she would miss.

She dried her tears when she felt her cell phone vibrate. It was probably Devon, wondering where she was, or the nurse's station, telling her to check on one of her other patients. She was genuinely surprised to see that she had a video message waiting from Casey. Sniffling, she hit play.

His warm voice filled the empty stairwell first, followed by her own laughter. She felt a little better, watching Downy play.

She'd give anything to be there, on one of those awful folding chairs, sitting next to Casey, watching as the adorable calico tried desperately to catch what was so ephemeral.

She bit her lower lip. As she exited out of the message, she placed a phone call. She wouldn't mind more of that comforting voice.

"Ellie."

"Hey, John. Thank you for that."

"You saw our girl, huh?"

"I really..." Her voice broke. "I really needed a smile today. Right now. I can't thank you and Downy enough for sending one my way."

"It was our pleasure," he assured her. But, he had to ask: "What's wrong?"

"Occupational hazard," she lamented, running her fingers along the cool metal of the handrail, picking at the chipping paint.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, closing her eyes, forgetting, for a moment, that he couldn't see.

"Ellie...?"

"No, it's..." She took a slow breath. "There's nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. Nothing anybody can do about it now, it's... It's out of my hands."

"You lost a patient," he said knowingly.

How could he do that? How could he just instinctively _know_? She tried to hide the sobs, but she just couldn't. "Eight years old, John. Just a little, little girl. The sweetest child ever. Everybody loved her. Just, instantly. You looked at her and you just knew she was special. That she was going places. She had dreams and plans and for what? To never get to see them through? To lose them before she even had an opportunity to try?"

"You did everything you could."

"What if I didn't? What if I missed something?"

"There's no one in this world who cares more about others than you. I know you did everything you knew to do to save her. And sometimes, all the knowledge in the world... it just isn't enough."

"But, it should be."

"I know. And if I could make it be true for you, Ellie, I would. Believe me, I would."

She sighed when she heard her name called over the paging system. "I have to go."

"Ellie..."

"Yeah?" she asked as she slowly got to her feet.

"You're a good doctor, a good woman..."

She smiled a little, or tried to. It broke almost as quickly as it appeared. "I'll see you later, John."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	13. Foreshadowing

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Casey sends a video of Downy playing with a laser to Ellie, who is having a miserable day at work.

* * *

Foreshadowing

* * *

He was beyond tired. Bone weary was more like it. He sat on the folding chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, propped up on the table. His left hand covered his face. His right arm was pulled tight against his stomach. It had been the longest week ever.

The flight to China had been miserable. He was tired of the cramped quarters of flying coach, but it was the government's dime and he felt honor-bound to remain quiet about the lingering pain in his knees, back and neck from being shoehorned into the seat.

The mission had been a complete disaster from start to finish. It was like something out of one of those old Keystone Kops movies. Everywhere they turned, everything they did, it only seemed to make the situation worse.

After the first incident, he blamed Sarah for the remaining troubles as she'd been the one to ask: "What else could possibly go wrong?" Chuck was almost arrested for some obscure law Casey still didn't understand. Sarah managed to sprain her ankle. And Casey had nearly been shot twice, including one friendly fire incident from the Intersect's weapon. Chuck had picked up a loaded, live, _real_ gun only to turn it around and beat someone in the head with it and, in the process, managed to somehow squeeze the trigger. Casey'd had to roll into a stone wall to avoid the shot and had done something to his right arm in the process.

To top that off, after another shoehorned flight back home, there was inventory to do at the Buy More. And given Casey's height and muscular advantage over the majority of the other green shirts, he wound up doing most of the heavy lifting. Which did his arm absolutely no good whatsoever.

So, when he'd strolled into the laundry room a little early, he barely acknowledged Downy's presence, went ahead and started his first load as usual before trying to get comfortable.

The cat sat perfectly still, looking up at her human owner. She tilted her head to one side curiously. When the door opened and Ellie walked in, Downy rushed to meet her, meowing softly.

"Hey, you," she said, walking carefully to avoid stepping on her little paws or her tail. She looked up at Casey who liked like crap. "John...?"

He slowly lowered his hand.

She could see, very clearly, his left eye was solid black. "Not again."

"It's a hard knock life."

"This wasn't because of Chuck, was it?" she asked, putting her hamper down and immediately crossing towards him.

_Partially_, he wanted to tell her. "I had a misunderstanding with a refrigerator." In his head, he added, _of a man_. The guy he'd tangled with in Beijing had been built like one.

"Sounds like a worker's comp claim," she said, her fingers light and cool to the touch on his bruised skin. "Buy More is paying for this, aren't they?"

"Pretty sure my face is paying for it," he said, looking up at her, realizing just how close she was.

"I'll go get ice."

He caught her wrist before she could do more than stand up straight.

"You don't want it to stay puffy and dark, do you?"

"You don't have to take care of me, too. Between Downy, Chuck, Devon, your patients at the hospital..."

"Getting you an ice pack doesn't really qualify as taking care of you."

"On what planet?"

"On this one."

Casey slowly lowered his legs from the table, grunting in annoyance at the pain as he did so, before standing. The whole time, he still had a warm hand around her wrist. "You've barely slowed down for two minutes since you lost your patient last weekend."

"So?"

"So stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to be Wonder Woman."

"But, I like my invisible plane..."

"Ellie, I mean it. You don't have to take care of me."

"What if I want to?"

"Why would you want to do that? Why add another responsibility to your already full plate?"

"Because you..." She looked up at him, caught in his blue eyes for a moment. She swallowed hard. "Because you need ice."

"I'm fine without it."

"But, you would be better _with_ it."

"In the long run, it's not going to make that much difference."

"But..."

He moved closer to her, invading her space, looking down at her, still holding onto her wrist. His voice was low, dangerous almost. "But I want you to take care of _you_."

She closed her eyes as she shuddered. A feeling she couldn't adequately describe coursed through her veins. Intrigue? Desire? "I'll be fine..."

"And so will I," he assured her.

"It'll just take a minute."

Downy meowed, unhappy that they were standing, that they weren't sitting where she could crawl all over them.

"Please," Ellie said, looking up at him. She realized it wouldn't take much to close the distance between them.

He was torn. Half of him wanted the tenderness, the comfort he knew she could provide. The other half knew he had to stay strong, that, out of the two of them, she was the one who needed the assistance. All of him, however, couldn't seem to help but react to how close she was. He tried to blame the pain, the fact that his head was swimming on the tussle alone, that his heart was beating faster because he'd been remembering the fight. But he knew, deep down, it wasn't true. He knew, deep down, it was because of _her_. "I'll get it," he finally grit out.

She turned on her heel, watching as Casey breezed past her, finally releasing her. She felt conflicted at the sudden loss of contact, at his walking away from her. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She dizzily dropped down into a chair.

Downy jumped into the chair beside her, looking up at her.

Ellie reached out, slowly placing a hand on the cat's head. "What _was_ that?" she asked.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	14. Chicken Soup for the Cat Owner's Soul

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey's injured on another mission and Ellie wants to take care of him. But he knows, deep down, she's the one who needs care.

* * *

Chicken Soup for the Cat Owner's Soul

* * *

He looked at the empty two washing machines then down at the cat, who seemed to be pacing. She'd walk the entire length of the room, then under the table, under his chair, and loop back around. "What are you looking for, huh? I don't think Ellie's hiding under there..."

Downy stopped, looking up at him. She let out a quiet meow.

"I think she's supposed to be on call this weekend."

Downy meowed again.

"And Woodcomb is out of town on some bungee jumping, near-death-experience bonding thing with his frat idiots."

The calico yawned, stretching.

"Tell me about it," he said in a somewhat amused grunt. He looked again at the empty washing machines. "Stay put?"

Downy watched as Casey stood and moved towards the door. She started to follow, then didn't, jumping into his hamper instead.

"Good girl," he said before crossing the courtyard. He was almost to Ellie's door when he spotted Chuck. "Bartwoski."

The lanky geek glanced back at him. "Oh, hey, big guy." His arms were loaded with grocery bags.

Sunday was the best day for catching up on all mundane, domestic tasks, Casey decided. "You seen your sister?"

Chuck made a face. "Oh-hoo yeah."

Casey narrowed his eyes slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hair a wreck. A nose that would give Rudolph a run for his money..."

Casey's features softened slightly. "She's sick?" Off Chuck's nod, he continued. "Does she have everything she needs? Soup, tissues, medicines...?"

Chuck shrugged a shoulder. "She's not big on people taking care of her. Believe me, this morning, when I told her I was going to the store, asked if she needed anything, I was told, in no uncertain terms, that my assistance was not requested, wanted, or desired."

Casey looked back up at the apartment. "Put your groceries away. I've got something for you to do in a minute."

"But, it's Sunday. No Buy More shift, no national emergency..."

Casey growled.

"Yeah, all right, all right. Be right back."

Casey knocked on Ellie's door and wasn't entirely surprised when she didn't answer. When he checked the handle, however, and the door opened easily, he became somewhat wary. She'd been so sick she didn't even lock the door after her brief conversation with Chuck? As he wandered into the living room, he pulled his service weapon from the back of his blue jeans. "Ellie?"

As he suspected, no answer. That didn't stop him from making a quick sweep of the entire apartment. The last room was the bedroom, where Ellie lay atop the covers, wrapped up in her robe, in a sea of carelessly discarded tissues. The TV was on, tuned into some sappy, cheesy romantic movie. He spotted her hamper by the dresser, as well as the clothes that had almost, but not quite, made it into the basket.

Moving silently, he tossed the rest of her clothing into her basket before balancing it on his hip. Next up, he collected all of her used tissues, tossing them in the wastebasket and removing the garbage bag. As he headed back down the stairs, he made a mental list of everything he needed to do. The first of which was delegate some responsibilities to Chuck.

The geek was standing in the courtyard, glancing around to see where Casey had gotten off to. He was somewhat shocked to see him coming out of Ellie's apartment. "Uh..."

Casey thrust the hamper into Chuck's arms. "Both loads, gentle cycle, warm. If you can't figure out the liquid softener, there are sheets in my basket. Toss them in when you put them in the dryer, permanent press. Understood?"

Chuck looked up at Casey curiously. "I'm doing my sister's laundry?"

"Mine, too. My clothes, cold, normal cycle, permanent press."

"But-"

"The most important thing," Casey said, holding a finger up, "is that you do not let the cat out of your sight. Are we clear?"

"What is this, the Laundry Marines?"

Casey grunted and Chuck started to scramble.

He didn't scramble far. "Uh... Casey...? Where is the laundry room?"

Casey took a slow breath, pointing him in the right direction.

* * *

Ellie woke slowly. Her head hurt. She was achy all over. She felt like she'd been run over by a Mack truck a few times and then steamrolled for good measure. She sat up, fully expecting to see her tissues still everywhere. Except, when she opened her eyes, she realized there weren't any anywhere. The box she'd had, just plain tissues, had been replaced with the lotion kind, with the mentholated scent.

Her eyebrows drifted up her forehead. "Chuck?"

She eased out of bed, putting the box under her arm. As she put her feet onto the ground, she saw that her slippers were waiting on her, instead of lost in the back of her closet. Maybe it wasn't her brother. "Devon?" she called, slipping her feet into the warm comfort before heading carefully down the stairs.

She couldn't smell much, but she could tell there was something even better than the scented tissues in her future. It had to be her husband, home early from his trip because he was worried about her.

Except, he wasn't on the couch, on the cardio-bike or even in the kitchen. She inhaled deeply, as deeply as she could. She could see her crock pot was on low, and there was a gentle amount of steam rolling from the glass lid. Inching closer, she found what had to be a delicious chicken soup within, with carrots, peas, celery, wide egg noodles and perfectly bite-sized hunks of meat. She smiled softly, putting her hand over her heart.

Somebody loved her enough to take care of her in return.

She just wished she knew who.

As she put the tissues down, she spotted that a soup bowl, ladle and spoon were already set out for her, just waiting. A note beside it said two simple words in clear, concise handwriting: "Feel better." Beneath it, in bold strokes: "John and Downy."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	15. Independence

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Posting slightly early due to the holiday. Happy Independence Day! ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie winds up missing out on laundry day because she's sick. Casey takes care of her the best way he knows how, through a mission and delegating tasks to the Intersect.

* * *

Independence

* * *

He smirked, seeing the cat on his coffee table. "Clearly, I'll be spending tomorrow figuring out my security weaknesses," he said as he let himself into the apartment fully, dropping his keys on the table by the door. He crossed to Downy, scooping her up easily, before settling in on his recliner to process the day.

He'd had a very different kind of Sunday. Quite possibly, the best Independence Day he'd had in years. And it was all thanks to her.

He'd planned on watching war movies all day, as he'd done his laundry the day before. But, there she'd been, a patriotic vision in a blue sundress, white sandals, and a red ribbon tying back her hair. In her hands had been two tickets to the holiday festivities in Long Beach aboard the Queen Mary.

He'd wanted to refuse, but she'd cut him off before he could even consider that option. She'd bought the tickets with him in mind. It hadn't been her plan to go with Devon, then he, for whatever reason, had to bail and Casey was an okay replacement. It was because she wanted to spend the holiday with _him_. He only felt a little guilty about stealing her away.

There was something mildly off about celebrating American independence from the British on a ship named for a former queen, but he didn't dare tell her that. The very last thing he wanted to do was even remotely crush her spirit. It had taken almost a month to get it back...

The food was mouthwatering and exquisite. There had been an assortment of barbecued ribs and brisket, pulled pork and chicken, along with corn on the cob and baked beans, potato salad and coleslaw. There'd even been a build-your-own strawberry shortcake buffet, providing the perfect dessert to the perfect meal with the perfect companion.

They were easily-and often-mistaken for a married couple. After the first dozen or so attempts to correct people, they gave up and rolled with it. To him, it was almost like a cover-perhaps the most natural one he'd ever had. He felt so at ease with her. It hadn't seemed to bother her, either.

It wasn't all good eats and good conversation. There was music and all sorts of things to do and see and try. And there was history. He'd gotten a chance to chat up one of the Queen Mary tour guides and learned that the very ship they were standing on had ferried injured US soldiers home in World War II and that Winston Churchill had even taken three trips abroad to various conferences.

As the evening wore on, as the sun started to set, there was dancing. He'd hesitated at first, but seeing her, with tri-colored tiny stars on her cheek from the face painters, her skin golden from being in the sun all day, combined with the hope in her eyes, he couldn't refuse her.

He could tell she hadn't been expecting him to be light on his feet. He didn't dare say it was thanks to three trips through Seduction School, learning from the narcissistic, sadistic task master, legendary Roan Montgomery. But, he did make a mental note to thank the old man someday.

He reclined the chair back, looking at the ceiling as Downy snuggled into his chest. Idly, he let his fingers drift through her short fur. It was the part after the fireworks that really got him thinking. The part after both their dancing and that of the lights in the sky. The part where he held her. The part where he almost kissed her.

* * *

She let herself into her apartment, closing the door and leaning against it. She knew Devon wasn't home yet, which was probably a good thing. She needed to figure out what had happened, what was going on...

On Wednesday, when she was finally over her illness, she'd told Devon what her plans were and he'd said he didn't have any problem with it. In fact, there was some happening at the Rose Bowl most of the frat brothers were going to, so he'd just tag along with them. That suited her just fine. The less time she spent with his collegiate brain trust, the better.

She wasn't sure what kinds of things Casey would like, but she took a chance on good food, good times, and fireworks. He seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't mind explosions, unlike her brother, who, to this day, couldn't seem to stand the Independence Day staple.

She could tell, when she'd arrived on his doorstep, that he wasn't sure about it. She wasn't sure if he was worried about improprieties or what, but after only gently twisting his arm, he'd gone with her to Long Beach. He'd been quiet on the drive, even quiet as they boarded the old ship. But, through the course of the afternoon, he'd loosened up.

The food had helped. Of course, she'd learned long ago that the easiest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. Big, strong, tough John Casey was no different. He'd sampled just about everything. And if it didn't fit on his plate, it fit on hers. She loved watching him at the dessert buffet, stacking up thin slices of angel food cake, followed by strawberries and cream, topped with thin slices of pound cake, more strawberries and more cream, and garnished with chocolate shavings.

For some reason, she had the amusing image of Shaggy and Scooby Doo loading up three-foot-high sandwiches passing through her mind.

The part she loved the best, though, had been watching as his "geeky" side emerged. She never would've imagined he had one, except it showed itself prominently when he started chatting with the guide about the ship's history. It was a different side of him, one she'd liked seeing. She was used to the Buy More side, even the friend side, but this was better. She often got tired of listening to Devon drone on about the latest advancements in bungee rope weaves and she didn't even want to _think_ about the way Chuck and Morgan could carry on about video games, but Casey's history buff was fun to watch.

His eyes would soften, his body seemed relaxed. He was always so on-edge. But, not that day. That day he was amicable and friendly, _almost_ outgoing even. He'd put his foot down at the face painting, but Ellie had delighted in getting a set of three small stars on her cheek. They lingered, listening to the various bands play on the various decks, even watched the balloon artists, close-up magicians and stilt walkers.

As if discovering the existence of geeky Casey wasn't good enough, she also learned he was an incredible dancer. She'd been a little afraid he'd be awkward, or might have two left feet. And she'd had _very_ awkward dance partners before. The _Generalissimo_ had come to mind, making her internally shudder. But, he'd twirled her with ease across the deck. His confidence increased her own.

Once or twice, the other assembled revelers clapped for them.

Promptly at nine, the bands ceased to play and the world hushed for brief seconds before the sky erupted over the ocean in brilliant yellows and greens, in reds, whites, and blues. Casey had hesitantly eased an arm around her, and she'd leaned into his chest, thankful for the support as she looked heavenward.

She'd felt the rumbling in her chest, wondering what real cannon-fire sounded like, wondering what it must've been like, breaking free from tyranny and oppression.

Mostly, she wondered why it had felt so good to be in Casey's arms.

As the grand finale thundered overhead, she'd found her attention elsewhere. She'd found herself looking at him, how he seemed to be so proud, how he seemed to stand even taller (and he was tall enough already).

She'd turned to him, easing a hand on his chest. His hands rested on her hips. Her heart and mind waged an internal battle for their own independence. Only by sheer force of will had her brain won out. It was, after all, the more strategic of the two. Her heart was just impulsive, reckless.

She closed her eyes as she slowly slid to the floor. Even at the _memories_, she found herself breathless.

She told her heart it was just because he'd taken care of her the week before. That it was just the heat, the stars, the fireworks... That it was just the romantic ambiance. That it was all smoke and mirrors and whatever she _thought_ she felt for him wasn't real.

Her heart retreated from the field, down but not out, as she pushed herself back to her feet.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	16. Twenty Questions, Part 4

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Special thanks to Baschashe for the extra assistance with this arc. ;) You're the best, my friend!

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie takes Casey out to celebrate the Fourth of July and there are plenty of fireworks. Downy manages to break into Casey's in their absence.

* * *

Twenty Questions, Part 4

* * *

It had taken her a good three days to fully recover from the would've-been kiss. As such, she'd fully expected it to be awkward and weird after the Fourth of July at Long Beach. To her unending surprise, it wasn't. There was an innate ease to their conversations, as it had been since Downy entered their lives and this week was no different.

She should've known better, she realized, as she pondered her next question. It had probably just been the heat. Momentary insanity. And, since he wasn't bringing it up, neither was she. "Best concert experience?"

Casey made a face.

"You don't like music?"

"I like music. It's the intentionally-spending-time-in-big-crowds-of-complete-and-total-strangers I take issue with."

She let that process for a beat. The week before had _definitely_ been momentary insanity, then. "So, no concert experiences ever?"

"Not necessarily. Just none that were any good." Tyler Martin's had been okay. After all, there had been terrorists and chases and fighting. His kind of party.

"Mm. Okay."

Casey watched as Downy moved, from his clothing-filled hamper to the cool metal of the now-empty washing machine. "Best day ever?"

"Oh, wow. That's hard!"

"Really? I thought it would've been easy?"

"Well... I always forget, you weren't at the wedding. Seems like you were..." She shrugged. "It was pretty disastrous to start. It ended well, but it was... not the best ever."

He had been there for the first one. He'd been exhausted by the time the second one rolled around. "What about meeting Woodcomb?"

"It was good and bad, too. It was... sort of embarrassing." She winced at the memory of being found in a very compromising position by the Westside janitorial staff. She took a slow breath. "I guess... I guess the day Chuck was born."

He looked up at her.

"It was the first time my family was complete. It was probably the last time we were all happy, too."

"That's a long time ago... to have your best day ever."

She smiled a little shyly. She'd never admitted that to anyone else before. "Yeah... what about you?"

He had to think. There were plenty of good days in protecting the country since he'd moved to Burbank. Plenty of bad ones, too. But, his best, very best day had to have been... "When I became a Marine."

She looked at him curiously.

"I, uh..." He held up his right hand, showing the gold and garnet ring. "I served." It was odd, making it past-tense when it was his present.

"Y'know, I'd noticed the ring, but I never asked. I didn't realize what it meant."

He shrugged but stiffened as she took his hand to examine the ring more closely. Her touch was cool, soft. He wondered if her hands were ever warm. He did his best to resist the temptation to rub them between his own hands, to try to remedy that for her.

When she finally released him, she looked at him differently. He hadn't just been some retail drone his whole life. He'd been something greater. He'd been a Marine, one of the toughest of soldiers.

It made some sense, how he carried himself, how he sometimes seemed more like a guard than a guy. Why he'd been so proud the week before... She'd heard a few of the veterans a the hospital for various treatments talk about how they were never any "former" Marines. Once one, always one.

He wasn't sure he liked the way she was looking at him. It made him uncomfortable and nervous. And nothing ever made him nervous. There was a new light in her eyes. If he had to put a name to the expression, he'd call it awestruck. "It's not all that great," he told her.

"No wonder you knew how to kick in the door."

He offered her a wincing smile. "Yeah."

"John, I had no clue."

He shrugged.

"Still. It meant something to you. It must still, for that to have been your best day, for you to still wear the ring."

It was his whole identity. He didn't know any other way to be.

"It's your turn by the way."

He cleared his throat, pondering. "Favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Fudge ripple, sunken!" she said eagerly.

He looked at her, puzzled. "How do you get 'sunken' ice cream?"

"Well, first, you put a generous amount of fudge ripple in one of those old-fashioned sundae glasses..."

"Okay," Casey said slowly.

"And then you add whipped cream. The real stuff, not the kind you buy in a can or a tub."

"Still not sure how this makes it 'sunken.'"

"Two maraschino cherries go on top, the kind with the stems."

"That's important?"

"Very," she said, nodding emphatically. "Sometimes, if you're feeling decadent, you add toasted almonds or walnuts. But, the part that makes it sunken?"

He waited with baited breath for this.

"A generous pour of Kahlua liquor."

"So, it's a sloshed ice cream?"

"No, no. It's a sunken drundae!" she announced happily.

Casey couldn't help but groan.

"Oh, c'mon now, Marine. How do you take your ice cream?"

"Well, I'm thinking I need to try one sunken sometime."

She grinned broadly.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	17. Tongue Tied

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Additionally, posting early this week and potentially next week due to mildly entertaining plans... Hope y'all don't mind. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Casey and Ellie swap best days ever: when he joined the Marines and when Chuck was born. Ellie also tells her favorite ice cream treat.

* * *

Tongue Tied

* * *

They'd both wound up working Sunday afternoon. By the time they were able to meet in the laundromat, dusk was just settling in.

Downy, of course, ignored them both when they entered since, clearly, they'd ignored her earlier.

All of Casey's coaxing and Ellie's treats had failed to convince her to be social.

Casey could see the light bulb ignite over Ellie's head. "What?"

"I have an idea. I'll be right back."

He wasn't sure what she was up to but she was cute when she was excited. That thought was sobering. He didn't need to be thinking about her attractiveness _at all_. The Fourth of July had been close enough. _Too_ close, really. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he exhaled slowly through his mouth, to try to clear his head.

He looked at Downy, who sat quietly on the bottom shelf of the storage unit that lined the back wall. "Whatever your mom is up to, I'm sure it'll make you forgive us."

Downy merely blinked at him.

Ellie returned ten minutes later with her arms full.

Casey stood, to try to help, but she smiled at him.

"I've got it," she assured him, hiding whatever it was she held. "Sit."

He reluctantly sat back down, watching curiously as Ellie placed a saucer in front of Downy.

The cat regarded the contents coolly for a moment before the curiosity got the better of her.

Ellie grinned before finally showing Casey what she'd brought. "For you, sir. Your first sunken drundae... on a Sunday."

He offered her a rare grin.

It was just how she'd described it. A gorgeous confection of ice cream and booze, topped off with two cherries in whipped cream.

"So," he said, accepting the treat and a spoon. "What's special about the cherries with the stem?"

She looked at him, a mix of innocence and embarrassment. "If you want to know, I'll show you later."

He glanced at her, watching as her expression melted into something else, something he couldn't quite pinpoint.

She swallowed her first bite before nudging his shoulder with hers. "Eat."

Casey could see the appeal, certainly, as he finally tried a spoonful. Even Downy lapped at her small amount of vanilla in cream. The cat finished hers first and finally bounded over to her owners. She jumped into Ellie's lap easily.

"The key to any girl's heart... ice cream," she said with a grin.

"I'll remember that." Casey looked up just in time to see that beautiful grin aimed squarely at him.

"Tell me something?"

"Mm."

"How come you aren't married?"

Casey nearly choked. He had a feeling that alcohol and ice cream would be a volatile combination coming out his nose.

"Too personal, isn't it? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

He shook his head. Taking a moment to clear his throat, he answered: "I was engaged once."

"What happened?"

_I died_. "Just didn't work out."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged.

"Just... you're an attractive guy. Smart, caring... I can't imagine how you haven't been snapped up yet by someone."

"Luck, I guess."

"Don't you want to be married...?"

"It would have to be the right woman," he told her. Someone who could put up with his hours, with his putting his life on the line on a daily basis. Someone he could tell his secrets to. At this point, he had so many, the burden would be too great for just anyone to bear.

"John..."

He glanced over at her.

"She's out there. Somewhere. Your dream girl. Your soul mate."

"Maybe. Maybe I had her already and lost her." Kathleen had his child, unbeknownst to him. Ilsa, or whatever her real name was, probably would've understood best the job requirements.

"Maybe not," Ellie said softly.

They ate in companionable silence, finishing up their treats. It wasn't enough alcohol to really get a buzz, but it was enough to relax him.

She set her empty sundae glass on the table. "All right, are you sure you want to see...?"

He noticed she was holding up the two cherry stems. He nodded.

Ellie smiled, somewhat sheepishly, before placing both on her tongue and closing her mouth.

Casey watched as she seemed to be... eating them?

She tried not to laugh at the faces he was making, ranging from concerned to utterly confused, as she continued the task at hand.

He'd almost decided she'd gone round the bend, when she opened her mouth. Atop her tongue, the cherry stems were tied together.

She maneuvered the knot, until she was holding onto it with just one end between her teeth. "Old bar trick," she admitted.

He didn't want to say it out loud, but he found that to be... somewhat fascinating, his thoughts drifting places they _definitely_ ought not. "I'm learning more and more about you every week."

She laughed softly, adding the stems to her empty glass.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	18. Killer

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Both Casey and Ellie are late for their appointed laundry time and Downy is not happy with them. After an impromptu ice cream social, Downy forgives her owners and Ellie shows Casey that she has a unique talent.

* * *

Killer

* * *

He had just closed the lid on the washing machine when he heard her scream.

"John? _John_!"

He had his hand on his gun as he moved towards the door. He cast one sidelong glance at Downy. "Stay put," he told the cat as he eased into the Sunday afternoon sunshine. "Ellie?" he called back.

"John, you've got to help me..."

He edged around the building, glancing in the courtyard. "What's wrong?"

"There's a _dead body_ at my door!"

Screwing stealth, he ran into the courtyard, fully expecting to see the decomposing human figure on her doorstep. He'd seen more than his fair share of them in his long, storied career. There were the ones he'd shot, poisoned and blown up. There were those he'd discovered bloated, dismembered or disfigured.

He was certain he'd seen it all.

But he wasn't ready for what scene was set for him in the courtyard.

Ellie stood at her open door, one hand over her eyes, the other holding onto her hamper. She danced from one foot to the other, clearly upset and troubled.

But there was no bleeding, oozing cadaver in the courtyard.

At least, not of a human.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when he realized what body it was she was talking about. A seagull was, well, rather decapitated, on her front stoop.

"John?" she asked, unwilling to confirm-visually-that he was there.

"I'm here," he told her.

"Will you get rid of it?"

"Downy left you a present. I don't think she'd be happy with me if I just dispatched of it..."

"But, _I_ would be infinitely happier if you got rid of it and I didn't have to see it. And if you could clean up its little birdie blood, because... I just..."

"You're getting woozy at the sight of blood, there, Dr. Woodcomb?"

"John! There is a _dead creature_ on my doorstep. It's a little different when I'm in scrubs and there are sterile gloves and instruments and not _dead things_ left at my door!"

"All right, all right, relax..."

She could sense his movement, hearing his boots shuffle closer to her door on the courtyard stone. She gasped. "You aren't touching it barehanded, are you?" she asked, daring to peek through her fingers.

He glanced up at her. "Do you want me to remove this thing or not?"

She snapped her fingers closed again. "Yes, but, there... there are all kinds of diseases that can be spread from deceased birds. There's... there's West Nile and there's the bird flu..."

"Are you suggesting we get rid of Downy, too?" Casey asked.

She hesitated. "I'm just saying I'd feel better if you were protected!"

"It's just a dead bird."

"Potentially, its name, before _whomever_ left it here, was Typhoid Toucan!"

"Seagull," he corrected.

"Please..."

He did his best to stifle his laughter. "All right, Ellie, I'll get something to get it up with, so I'm not touching it directly..." As he took a few steps towards his apartment, he heard her call out, very softly.

"Thank you."

He grabbed a garbage bag from his kitchen and returned, scooping it up within, without touching the critter at all. "It's safe now," he told her. "You can open your eyes," he said as he finished tying off the bag.

She slowly spread her fingers again, only daring to look at him through the spaces between. "Are you sure?"

He smirked. "Quite."

"Will you please have a talk with Downy about not killing things...?"

He wasn't sure if she was being serious or joking. "Domesticated house cats are the number one killer on the planet, Ellie. There's absolutely nothing we could say or do to quench that thirst. It's just what they do."

"But," she said, looking down at the slight red stain that was still just outside her door. "But, Downy isn't a house cat, she's a laundry room cat..."

"I don't think she realizes there's a difference."

"But, she should."

"I..."

The look on Ellie's face was just priceless, one Casey tried desperately to commit to memory. Her eyes were guarded, worried, and somewhat little-girl like. She bit the very corner of her bottom lip, like she wanted to believe him but couldn't quite. In spite of the fear, there was so much hope and just plain adorableness.

He couldn't help it as he said: "I'll have a chat with her."

She nodded, relieved, before hesitantly stepping over the entrance, making sure that her foot came nowhere near contacting the spot where the bird body had been. She took such a wide step, she almost fell into him.

He caught her easily as she bobbled, one hand at her elbow, the other at her hip. "All right?"

"I'm doomed. It's the threshold of doom now," she said, looking back at her door.

"Nah. Little bleach washes away a multitude of sins," he assured her.

As they walked towards the laundry room together, he couldn't help but think that maybe Downy was one-half Casey, too.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	19. Twenty Questions, Part 5

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Downy leaves Ellie a present she isn't happy to receive in the form of a dead bird on her doorstep. Casey's on clean-up duty and promises to have a chat with their little killer.

* * *

Twenty Questions, Part 5

* * *

Downy glanced up at Casey when he stopped scratching the top of her head.

"Wildest thing you've ever done?" he asked.

She exhaled slowly, her cheeks almost instantly turning pink.

"You still have your veto," he reminded her.

He was such a gentleman, she decided. It didn't matter what the question was, if she hesitated for more than a breath, he was more than willing to try to save her honor. She had a feeling he'd give her more than one if she needed it. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair, inhaling. "I, um... It's probably double-duty," she acknowledged. "Wildest and dumbest thing. But, it's sort of a collective thing..."

Casey looked at her. There was a curiousness but he never pushed. He was happy to listen to whatever she wanted to tell him.

"When Chuck went to Stanford, it was like... It was like I was finally getting my opportunity to be wild and crazy and do all of the teenage rebellion thing that... that I missed out on. There was a lot of drinking," she said slowly. "Which was how I learned to tie cherry stems. There was a lot of... A lot of being reckless," she admitted.

Casey watched as Downy, tired of sitting with him, crossed towards Ellie.

"There were a lot of one-night stands, a lot of random hook-ups. In fact, Devon... Devon was one of those. The first one, even," she admitted.

That piece of information piqued Casey's interest most, as he looked up at her.

"First day of med school, we slipped off to a janitorial closet," she said, wincing a little. She could see the disbelief in his eyes and she immediately broke eye contact, looking down at Downy, who lazed between them.

"So, what changed?"

She held up a tiny space between her thumb and her index finger. "Getting this close to failing out of med school in my first semester. I couldn't... I couldn't have worked so hard for so long just to throw it all away, so I straightened up my act very quickly. I eked out barely passing grades in those classes, but I made it through to the next semester and I started behaving more like the responsible adult I'd been since I was ten," she said with a humorless laugh.

He nodded slowly. He wanted to ask her more but he knew he'd been lucky with the one follow-up already.

"So, what about you?" she asked, resting her head against her propped up hand. "Wildest, craziest thing you've ever done?"

He exhaled slowly, thinking. So much of his life was classified, but he'd already inadvertently revealed his military background. "When I was a Marine..." He could tell a story from recently, pass it off as something he'd done before. "I, uh... I got taken," he said slowly. "By this Russian... guy," he said as diplomatically as he could. "He had me tied to someone else, back to back, and, uh... well, I had to get out of it."

Her eyes got wide. "What'd you do?"

"We battled it out. We wound up on this balcony and we were pushed... We were several stories up... if it weren't for the swimming pool below, pretty sure we would've been a pancake."

"John," she breathed. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but she was pretty sure there was fear, amazement, and relief, all rolled into one strange emotion.

"We lived."

"Well, yeah, but..."

He looked at her. "But what?"

"That's decidedly scarier than my wild times!"

"I'd have to disagree."

She looked at him disbelievingly.

"Anything could've happened to you." His brain went through the varied outcomes, each one worse than the other. It made him internally shudder. "I pretty much had just two options."

"Well, we can agree to call them both decidedly wild, crazy, scary and probably stupid."

He nodded.

She took a slow breath. "What went through your head? I mean, falling all those stories... into a swimming pool! How do you _handle_ that?"

"Years of training."

"Seriously, John... what were you thinking as it happened?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded.

"If I die, let the guy tied to my back live."

She hadn't been expecting that. _At all_.

"Better one live than none."

"Well, at least you aren't in the Marines anymore. Don't have to worry about _that_ kind of a thing anymore."

Someday, when and if the real truth ever came out about what he did... Someday, this might all come back to bite him on the ass, he knew. She hadn't asked him a question about his service. He just chose not to correct her. That wasn't so bad, was it? He kept telling himself it wasn't. He cleared his throat. "And at least your wild-child days are behind you as well."

Ellie smiled gently at him then sighed, looking at her two hampers filled with cleaned, folded clothes. Their final loads had finished almost a half hour ago. "Speaking of... I guess it's time to get back to reality."

"Probably," Casey acknowledged, standing.

"Same time, next week?"

He nodded, offering her his hand so he could help pull her to her feet.

She smiled a little, placing her hand into his.

"Have a good week," he told her.

"You, too."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	20. Silence

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie confesses to Casey that she used to be a wild child. They linger in the laundromat long after their loads are finished.

* * *

Silence

* * *

Casey eyed the hole in his favorite black tee shirt critically as he pulled it from the dryer. It was jagged and ripped, from mid shoulder to halfway down his back. It still hurt to move, but Sarah had patched him back up. The stitches were good and tight, performed with near surgical precision. Not half bad for a CIA spook.

A stray thought entered his mind, however, as he felt the sting of pain rip through his backside again. He couldn't help but wonder what a certain doctor's bedside manner might be like. Shoving that thought aside, he tossed the ruined tee shirt in Downy's direction with a sigh. "Finally," he told her. "All yours."

Downy went to investigate the discarded garment, sniffing at it.

He couldn't help but smile a little as Downy set about settling in it after just a few moments. He glanced up when the door opened and Ellie breezed in. "Hey," he said, finishing folding one load and starting another in the dryer.

"Hey," she returned, taking up her normal spot beside him, filling the other two machines. She noticed that his movements seemed deliberate, carefully coordinated. Even after he sat down in one of the folding chairs, she could tell he wasn't leaned against the back, like he normally would.

He could feel her concern, even though she hadn't said anything. She hadn't done anything more than look at him, but he could tell that it was coming. The questions, the worries. He attempted to take control of the conversation. "How's the hospital?"

She shrugged. "It's all right," she said, adding detergent to each washer.

Normally, if he asked her a simple question like that, she'd respond with more of a soliloquy than a mere three words. "Just all right?"

"Mmhmm." She knew what he was trying to do. After all this time, she was starting to figure it out. While she wasn't sure what the picture on the puzzle was, she was starting to group together the pieces that were the same color. And she'd noticed how Casey could seemingly control the conversation by asking her basic, open-ended questions. When she didn't take the bait, she could almost hear the gears grinding in his head.

"I see..."

She closed the lids on her machines, leaning against one of them, folding her arms over her chest. "What did you do to your back?"

The lie came easily but it tasted bitter. "I pulled it. At the Buy More. Too many Beastmasters. Grilling season."

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing _almost _imperceptibly. "I was really starting to think that you were different, John, but you're the same as Chuck and Devon... even Morgan," Ellie said with a heavy sigh.

"W-what do you mean?" He'd never been one to play innocent. Following the fib with that maneuver seemed cheap but it had been the first thing to come to his mind.

"You all must think I'm so gullible, that I'm so incompetent that I can't see through the lies."

Casey stood, but it took concerted effort to keep the pain from crossing his features. "That is definitely not the case. I know that you're brilliant. Much smarter than I am..." Off her disbelieving look, he said, very quietly: "If I could tell you everything, I would."

She just looked up at him for a long moment. She wanted to be angry at him, to be frustrated, but she was desperate to know. "Your back... is it about protecting Chuck?" she asked, her voice just as soft as his had been. "I mean, you've taken a beating for my brother before... did you do it again?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't taste another lie, not without making himself sick.

But the silence spoke louder than any word ever could. She ran a hand over her face. While she appreciated the information, she wasn't sure what to do with it, or what it meant.

Casey cleared his throat. "It's not as bad as you think. But, the best thing you can do is not think about it."

She looked over at him. "What are you part of? The mafia or something?"

He smiled but shook his head.

She was inclined to believe him. After all, it wasn't silence that greeted her but a real answer. She took a slow breath. "Do you want me to take a look at your back?"

"I'm okay," he assured her. "But, if it gets worse, I'll keep you in mind, if that's all right."

She nodded.

* * *

Long after the clothes were folded and put away but shortly before she started preparing Sunday night dinner, Ellie ventured back to the laundry room with a can of cat food. She was distracted as she crossed the courtyard.

So there was something.

That was comforting to know, wasn't it?

She decided it wasn't, not without knowing more details. She wanted to honor Casey's request, not to ask anything, not to think about it, but in the silent moments in her afternoon, she kept thinking back to it. Back to the pain that he tried so hard to hide from her.

With a sigh, she let herself into the dim laundry room. "Dinner time, sweet girl," Ellie announced.

Downy, who had been in the window sill, watching the birds zoom and dive, jumped easily to the ground and joined her owner at her food bowl.

Ellie smiled a little as Downy began chowing down then set about checking the litter box. On her way over to that corner of the laundry room, however, she noticed the black _something_ on the floor. Setting the empty tin on the table, she bent to pick it up. "What did you find, huh?" she asked, noting well that it was covered with fur.

As she stretched it out, she realized it was a tee shirt. Given the color, and the fact that Downy had been all over it, she could only assume that it was Casey's.

She smiled a little. "You finally managed it, didn't you, Downy? To steal one of your dad's shirts?" She eased it over her arm. She'd get it washed and get it back to him. Except, as she did so, she realized the back was torn. Frowning, she lifted it again, inspecting it.

She gasped when she saw the hole. Placing it on the table, she could see the extent of the damage. With minutely trembling fingers, she ran the tips along the now-fraying edges. No wonder his back hurt, if he'd been wearing this when it happened.

Desperately, she wanted to knock on his door and demand to see his wounds. If he hadn't been properly taken care of, he needed to be. And, given the various injured states she'd found him in before, she couldn't be certain that it wasn't on its way to infection.

But, he'd told her no. She couldn't mother him, not like she could Devon or Chuck or Morgan. She couldn't doctor him. He'd outright refused the last time.

She closed her eyes. Maybe he'd accept an invitation to dinner. Maybe she could convince him that someone-that _she-_needed to see his wounds.

She tossed the shirt back on the ground for Downy. If she was going to try, she needed to get back, to work on making the evening meal.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	21. Bigger Than the Both of Us

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Additionally, while there is a Jimmy Buffett song by the same title as this chapter, it is not taken from the song in anyway. But, it is a good song and it makes me think of Casey and Ellie.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey keeps turning up hurt. How come Ellie never noticed this before Downy came along? And why does she feel like they all think she's gullible?

* * *

Bigger Than the Both of Us

* * *

When she'd gone to see if he wanted to come over for dinner that Sunday, he'd been gone. The Crown Victoria, always in the same spot in the parking lot, was missing. Periodically throughout the night, she'd glanced out, but she didn't see it come back, not before she finally went to bed at eleven. When she ventured out into the morning air at half past five, it was there. She would've knocked on his door then, but she had to get to the hospital.

The whole rest of the week, it seemed like he was avoiding her. He'd start out into the courtyard, perhaps to talk to Chuck, but when she'd emerge, he'd head immediately for his car. She even tried to catch him feeding Downy, because they traded off days. While she always fed their cat like clockwork, he never seemed to be in the laundry room the same time twice.

On Wednesday, she just couldn't take it anymore. She got off work and headed immediately to the Buy More. Still in her scrubs, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she strode purposefully into the store. She saw her brother standing at the Nerd Herd desk, his goofy grin plastered on his face. She didn't return the smile. She didn't even head for him. Determinedly, she walked towards the home appliances side of the electronics superstore.

Casey was showing off the latest in vacuum cleaners to a young mother with two small, wailing children. When he saw Ellie, when he saw the look on her face, he excused himself before walking to meet her.

"We need to talk," Ellie said, looking up at him.

It was the four words that could strike fear into the heart of any man. With his hand on her lower back, he steered her towards the Home Theater Room in the back of the store.

As he did so, he caught sight of Chuck, looking thoroughly perplexed after them.

Casey merely dipped his head slightly in return.

Once they were safely alone in the Home Theater Room with the doors closed and the curtains mostly drawn, Ellie started in on him. "What exactly is going on here, John? You're avoiding me."

"Ellie, I can't talk about this."

"You can't talk about what? About that you are, in fact, avoiding me? Or about whatever it is that's the _reason_ for your avoiding me?"

"I... I don't want to avoid you," he began slowly.

"Then don't," she said simply.

"It's more complicated than that," he said, his eyes checking the shadows on the other side of the curtains, to see if anyone was close enough to hear them.

"How can it possibly be more complicated?"

"You want the truth?"

"Desperately," she confirmed.

He looked down at her, wrestling with his conscious, with what he knew to be right, with his orders, with everything that had transpired within the past three years, with everything that had transpired within the nearly five months since they'd adopted Downy.

She could see there was so much knowledge, there was so much truth he was hiding as she searched his eyes. There was some stumbling block, some _thing_ that was still keeping her from knowing what was really going on. "I know you got hurt last week. I saw the shirt you let Downy have," she admitted. "I saw the gash. That was intentional." Her eyes started to water and her voice broke as she continued: "Somebody _did_ _that_ to you. They _meant_ to hurt you. That's not something you get from an accident here at work. That's not something from a bar brawl gone bad. How deep did the knife go?" she asked. "Who patched you back together? Did they have to use stitches? Staples?"

"Stop," he said quietly.

She didn't, though. She pressed on. "What do you do? What do you _really_ do, John?"

He shook his head. He couldn't tell her. He could hear, so clearly, General Beckman's voice in the back of his head, harping about professionalism, about confidentiality, about the safety of the United States.

But, what harm was telling Ellie really? What was she going to do? Go off and blab on some news talk show? Sell the story to the tabloids? Even in his wildest imagination, he couldn't see her working with terrorists. He couldn't see her selling out her brother, or even him.

He'd been fired once already, though, for disobeying orders, for thinking with his heart more than his head.

He couldn't escape her eyes, though. He couldn't look anywhere but there. There was innocence, tenderness and hopefulness. There was also desperation and annoyance. "I want to tell you."

"Please, John," she said, reaching out and finding his hand without ever breaking eye contact. "Just tell me."

Her touch was soft, gentle. He found himself thinking more and more with his heart He never would've imagined that an everyday, normal task like laundry, like taking care of a pet, would've led to something like this. His potential professional undoing. _Again._

"I wish I could," he said finally.

Ellie sighed, dropping her head and closing her eyes.

Disappointment radiated off of her and it nearly killed him, especially when she let go of his hand, when she turned from him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Ellie..."

"There's something. I _know_ there's something."

"There is something. But it's bigger than the both of us, Ellie. It's not my place to tell you the whole story."

"Whose job is it?" she asked, glancing back at him.

"I..." He closed his mouth, setting his jaw tightly.

She could almost hear him grinding his teeth.

"I lied to you," he finally admitted.

Whatever compassion she had for him, it faded instantly.

He swallowed hard. "I have regrets. More than I care to admit. I... I regret having to keep things from you."

"Then don't," she pleaded.

"I regret the reasons _why_ I have to keep things from you."

"John..."

"And I regret... I regret that I missed out on my daughter's childhood."

She looked up at him in shock.

"I didn't know she existed, not until a few months ago, and she's already... she's..."

Ellie thought she would be able to handle whatever it was Casey threw her way, whatever it was that he was hiding from her. She realized she was wrong. Without saying another word, without listening to another word from him, she let herself out of the Home Theater Room and rushed towards the door.

Chuck looked up, watching his sister practically run through the store. As she exited, he glanced back, seeing Casey, framed in the doorway, grief and pain etched in his face.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	22. Emptiness

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie, desperate for answers, goes to Casey at the Buy More and gets an answer she wasn't looking for at all: the fact that Casey is a father.

* * *

Emptiness

* * *

He sat in the laundry room.

Alone.

The only company he had was the squeaking belt of the washing machine as it tried desperately to manage the spin cycle.

Downy had been there when he'd arrived, but when he opened the door, she sprinted out. It was a pleasant summer afternoon, so why not? She spent all her time cooped up and, if she got into trouble, or if she didn't come home in an hour or two, he'd activate her GPS beacon and go get her.

He tried not to look at the other two washing machines, just waiting for Ellie to arrive and fill them. He tried not to look at the seat beside him, just waiting for her to sit and join him. If he did either of those things, he'd be reminded of how he'd managed, single-handed, to ruin more than just _his_ life.

He hadn't known that Kathleen was pregnant. Would his answer have been different? Would he have done something else with his life?

He couldn't say for sure. He'd been a pretty stupid kid.

He'd ventured to the coffee shop about twice a week where Alex worked. She was definitely his child. He could see the Coburn family facial features. He'd learned a little about her, about her school, about her life. He didn't ask for too many details. For starters, he didn't want to seem like a creepy old man, but he also felt he didn't have a right to know too much. He'd forfeited that when he'd become John Casey instead of remaining Alex Coburn.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the cool cinder block wall behind him.

* * *

When she opened the door to the laundromat across town, no one stood. No one moved to help her as she struggled to juggle two hampers and herself just to enter. No one looked at her, no one greeted her. No one was happy to see her.

And there was no cat underfoot.

She set her jaw tightly as she found some empty washing machines along the center aisle. She could get more accomplished quicker this way, she knew. She could do all four loads at once instead of two at a time. She could be home in no time, searching her cookbooks for something new to try for Sunday family dinner.

She loaded the machines as fast as she could, adding soap to each and enough quarters for them all to start. She wasn't sure why it felt like she was missing out. This laundromat had large televisions, tuned into various sporting events, various news channels. This laundromat had air conditioning and a wide selection of treats and drinks in vending machines. This laundromat didn't have squeaky belts or dented, scratched machines.

This laundromat didn't have John Casey.

Ellie quietly found a seat near her machines, setting the hampers on the ground beside her.

She tried to watch the news, tried to keep up with the happenings going on in the world around her. She found that the talking head just wasn't keeping her attention. She found that laundry just wasn't the same without the potential for a round of twenty questions, without company.

But, what kind of company was he anyway? He had a daughter. He had a daughter he didn't know existed. It seemed like a convenient excuse. But the way his heart had broken when he'd talked about regrets made her wonder otherwise.

The frustrated, angry, annoyed part of her brain said that didn't matter.

The tender side said it did.

The abandoned, hurt part of her heart said that didn't matter.

The kind side said it did.

The irrational side of her soul said that didn't matter.

The loving side said it did.

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the cool metal of the machine behind her.

She wasn't sure how long her eyes were closed, probably just a matter of minutes, as she tried, desperately, to think of anything but Casey. Startled, she had to open them when she felt something fall into her lap.

Her eyes widened at first in amazement, then narrowed slightly in concern. "Downy?"

The cat meowed, sitting patiently in her owner's lap, looking up at her.

"What are you doing here? Where's John?"

Downy just blinked.

The attendant at the laundromat approached. "Ma'am."

Ellie glanced up at the put-upon middle-aged woman.

"You can't have pets in here," she said, pointing to the nearest sign with the rules of the establishment.

* * *

He wanted to tell her he was still on active-duty. He wanted to tell her he worked for the NSA. He wanted to tell her he had an important job to do, that he was more than just a guy that hawked grills and vacuums.

He wasn't sure _why_ he wanted to tell her, but he did. He knew he _shouldn't_ want to, but he did.

He knew exactly what would happen with Beckman. He'd be unemployed. Again. At the Buy More only. Again. He didn't want that. He wanted to serve his country honorably. He didn't want to disobey orders.

But it still bothered him, that the order was to keep Ellie in the dark. Ellie, who already had suspicions. Ellie, who already had questions. Ellie, who he'd already lied to.

He wasn't sure how long his eyes were closed, probably just a matter of minutes, as he tried, desperately, to figure out what to do about Ellie. Startled, he opened them when he heard the door swing on its rusty hinges.

Ellie stood in the doorway, her hampers full of dripping wet clothes, balanced precariously against her left hip. Downy was under her right arm.

Casey jumped to his feet immediately and took the baskets from her. He didn't say anything as he set about filling the two empty washing machines and starting them for her. While he couldn't load everything, he put the remaining hamper beneath the folding table.

Ellie continued to stand in the doorway, watching him.

He finally chanced a glance at her.

"I was wrong," she said, "to expect you to tell me everything."

"I was wrong," he said, "to lie to you."

Ellie bit her lower lip for a second. She entered the room fully, taking her customary seat, watching as Casey hesitantly sat down beside her. "Laundry isn't the same without you," she said quietly.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	23. Revelations

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Also, a quick note of gratitude. As I prepare to post this, I've had 9,994 hits on this particular story, more than anything else I've posted. Given the occasional bouts of the traffic counters being down, I'm sure I've already reached 10,000, but it'll be nice to "see" it finally. Many, many thanks to all of you who have read and enjoyed, who have chosen it as a favorite story or subscribed to it, whether you've sent me a message about it or not.

I'll always be indebted to my dear friend Cindy Ryan, who gave me the idea and told me to run with it. We're in the final weeks of this marathon, and it's been a heck of a run. With love. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: After Ellie learns about Casey's daughter, they attempt to do laundry separately. Downy won't let them.

* * *

Revelations

* * *

Ellie paused just outside the door to the laundry room. She could see him, through the window, pacing. It was a new, different thing, seeing Casey nervous. She wasn't sure the word was in his vocabulary much less his emotional repertoire.

Things were still not quite right. She wasn't sure what to think of him. He, clearly, wasn't sure what to do.

Exhaling, she let herself into the laundromat. She saw that he stilled instantly but she didn't bring attention to that fact. She smiled at him a little, but it wasn't the same kind of a smile she used to give him on Sunday. Because of that, she could see there was... _disappointment_... in his eyes in return.

"How are you, John?" she asked, setting about filling her machines. Her smile grew, if only a touch, as she had to shoo Downy out of her basket almost as soon as she'd set it on top of the dryer.

"I... I brought coffee."

She glanced up at him, seeing his hesitation, his anxiousness. On the table sat two take-out cups of coffee as well as a small Styrofoam container.

"Thanks"

He nodded slightly, easing the coffee as well as the container towards her.

"What else did you bring?"

"It's, um..."

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he sounded more authoritative, more definitive. More _John-like_, Ellie realized.

"It's pie. Apple. From this restaurant across town..."

"You didn't have to," she said, adding soap to her machines and starting them.

"The restaurant across town, where my daughter works."

Ellie blinked, looking up at him. She wouldn't have imagined he had a child old enough to work. And she really hadn't expected him to offer that information willingly, either.

"Her name is Alex," he said. "She's working her way through college. Studying hard, working hard."

"What happened?" Ellie asked, picking up her coffee and taking a seat.

"We were young, her mother and I," he began, leaning against his washing machine. "She... I told you before, I was engaged once. It was to her mother."

Ellie nodded slowly.

"I shipped out and I... I was gone a long time. I never knew she was pregnant, Ellie. She never told me. Part of it, I think, was that she didn't get the opportunity. Or, maybe she didn't know how to tell me." Whatever the reason, it didn't really matter. "I was gone so long that I was someone else when I came back." _Literally_, he added in his head. "She'd moved on, Alex was grown... They didn't recognize me. I saw them, I talked to them, but Kathleen didn't..." He drifted off, getting a far-off look in his eyes.

She reached out, placing a hand over top of his.

"I didn't know. And that's my biggest regret. Not knowing I had a daughter, not being there for her. I missed everything."

"Not _everything_." She stood, moving to stand beside him. As she did, her hand never moved from his. "Speaking as a daughter whose father was never there... Trust me when I tell you that it doesn't matter when you show up. It's just important that you show up."

"Ellie, they..." He glanced over at her. "The Marines told them I was dead. Alex thinks I'm dead. That's not something I can just undo."

"As much as you _guys _tend to think that us women will break at the truth... I can guarantee you, we won't. She's your daughter. If she's anything like you-and I'm sure she is-then she's got strength enough within to surprise even you."

He inhaled slowly, nodding.

"She's not the only one with strength," Ellie said.

He looked over at her.

"I can take it, too. Whatever it is you're hiding from me."

"If it were up to me, I'd tell you."

Her expression turned curious. "Who is it up to?"

He opened his mouth, then stopped, shutting it abruptly.

"John..."

"Please don't ask," he said, his voice quiet, strained.

"Who is it up to? What are you keeping from me? What secret?"

He shook his head.

"You've told me about your daughter. You've told me that you don't want to lie to me. So stop. What is it?"

He slipped his hand out from beneath hers and appeared, at least to her, to be wringing his hands. "I can't tell you."

She frowned. "John?"

"I can't tell you," he said again, reaching out abruptly, taking her hand in his.

She gasped at the sudden contact, particularly as he guided her hand to his ring. He'd spun it around, so that the garnet was on the inside. He made her fingertips graze the gem. She looked up at him slowly. "Are you still...?"

He just held her gaze. He didn't tell her no. He didn't shake his head. It was that truth-telling silence again.

"John," she whispered, thoroughly shocked.

He leaned in, invading her space, whispering in her ear. "We can't talk about this. At all." He knew exactly what decibel levels could be picked up on the microphones he'd planted in various places around the apartment complex. His whispers would go undetected.

"But-"

"_At all_, Ellie," he stressed.

His breath was warm against her skin. It left her reeling, especially as he pulled back from her.

"You should try the pie," he said nonchalantly, nodding towards the container on the table. "It's not like your pecan, but it's still good."

Ellie glanced over, to see Downy sitting beside it, patiently looking up at her owners. She exhaled before looking back at Casey.

He couldn't help but notice it was that same _different_ look when she'd first realized he'd been a Marine. He rubbed at the back of his neck, uncomfortable at the attention. "Before Downy figures out how to open it," he added.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	24. The Deal

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey tells Ellie about Alex. Ellie promises Casey that Alex won't break if she hears the truth, and neither will Ellie, if he'll just tell her whatever the secret is. Casey slips and lets her know just one thing: he's still a Marine.

* * *

The Deal

* * *

She watched as he wrestled the new washing machine against the wall, where the old one had lived until just a few moments ago. Ellie didn't want to think about how impressive it was to see those muscles in action, but it was. Impressive to the point of _distraction_ even.

Taking a breath, she scratched Downy's chin. The cat wasn't a kitten anymore. The darling pet had grown up entirely too fast.

But, she hadn't outgrown her playfulness yet. As Casey carried the water hoses to hook up to the back of the new washer, Downy tried to bat at them.

"At ease, Killer," he told the cat. Although, on second thought, _Cupid_ wasn't such a bad name for the little bundle of fur either. She'd been a pretty good matchmaker, bringing him together with _her_ in the first place. And, she'd even brought Ellie back when he hadn't been able to.

Not that they were together. Because, they weren't. Because, she was married to someone else and he was married to his job.

"So, how'd you do it?" she asked as he bent over to tighten the lines.

"Do what?" he asked, busying himself so he wouldn't glance back over at her.

"Convince our landlord to replace the old, loud, annoying machines. Ones that had been on their last legs for probably a year before Downy came to join us."

He grunted, amused. "Trade secret."

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "Pretty sure my question doesn't violate the Geneva Convention or anything there, y'know..." The instant the sentence left her mouth, she regretted it. She wasn't sure what was acceptable to say in common areas of the apartment and what _wasn't._ But, if she hadn't known he was _still_ a Marine until last week, then she assumed not many others knew that little fact either.

He smirked. "Name, rank, serial number. That's all you're getting from me."

Seeing as how he didn't end the conversation abruptly, she assumed it was all right to continue, albeit more carefully. "Is it really all that vital to national security?" she challenged. "Because, I just can't imagine replacing the ancient machines with more energy efficient ones leading to the downfall of bin Laden or anything."

"Well, I don't think the President has considered that option yet," Casey said.

She tossed a balled up pair of her dirty socks at him, which he ducked easily, chuckling. "Are you quite through setting those up? Because I still need to _do_ laundry today."

"I told you that you didn't need to keep me company," he told her, sliding the wrench down into the pocket of his jeans again.

"Well, yes, but..." She watched as that bemused smirk appeared on his lips again, the one that spoke volumes about his level of mischievousness, about how much he enjoyed seeing her annoyed like that.

"But?" he prompted.

"But, I want to make sure I get my clothes started as soon as you finish," she provided lamely.

"Hmm."

"Hmm? What does that mean?"

He shrugged innocently, taking a box cutter to another new washing machine, freeing it from its cardboard covering.

"John..."

He chanced a glance at her, which was a mistake. A big mistake. One of the _biggest _mistakes he could've made.

She was looking at him, with that puppy-dog-like look on her face, her hazel eyes huge and round, full of sadness. Her lower lip wasn't terribly pronounced, but it was clear that it was jutting out a fraction of an inch further than normal.

He cracked.

Forget dastardly torture procedures. Forget threatening him. He was done for, just by looking at her. "I had to make a deal," he began.

"A deal?"

Casey nodded, tossing the cardboard aside.

"What kind of a deal? Because, that sounds kind of ominous. Like you had to sell your soul or something..."

"I didn't sell any souls. I had to save one."

"Now I'm really confused," Ellie admitted.

"He found out about Downy," Casey said, moving the second machine into place.

"The landlord?"

He nodded.

"And the policies..." She drifted off.

"Exactly."

Ellie pulled Downy a little closer.

"But, it's okay," Casey told her. "In exchange for my labor 'expertise' and my Buy More discount... We get to keep our cat."

We.

Two little letters tripped him up, causing him to be silent. His eyes grew distant, unfocused. He'd long avoided interpersonal entanglements intentionally. Whoever he couldn't push away, he let go of. As he'd grown older, as he'd learned more, as he'd come to rely on others more, he realized that wasn't the way he wanted to continue going through life.

"John...?"

Sunday afternoons in the laundromat with Ellie and Downy had taught him that. He looked at the doctor. "I wasn't about to let her go."

* * *

Stay Tuned...


	25. Separation

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey installs new washers and dryers as part of a deal with the landlord, so that he and Ellie can keep Downy.

* * *

Separation

* * *

Ellie leaned against the nurse's station. She'd been called in to cover a shift but it was an unusually _dead_ one. She was almost bored. She watched orderlies and techs bustle about, as nurses made laps. She'd already made her rounds and was back to that awkward moment of nothingness.

Slipping her hands into her lab coat pockets, her fingers closed around her cell phone.

Pulling it out, she smiled a little and headed towards one of the hospital's cell phone safe zones, one of the empty waiting areas at the end of the hall. Her thumbs made quick work of the message, sending it off to her intended target.

She bit her lower lip a little as her phone told her that it had sent successfully. It was too late to reach out into cyberspace and try to stop it, even if she'd wanted to. Tapping her fingers on the exterior of the phone's protective case, she dropped it back in her pocket, lingering to see if he was where he could respond.

* * *

John sat in the laundry room. It was odd without the noises from the old machines. He knew he should be thrilled but it was just... different. He liked things in order. The change made it peculiar and uncomfortable.

If Ellie had been there, it would've been better, easier to deal with. She probably would've started a round of twenty questions, something to break the ice, something to kill the silence. It would've been nice.

He wasn't alone, though. Downy was there, in his hamper, nestled among his dirty clothes. She was of no use as a companion at all at the moment, more interested in sleeping through his visit than paying him any mind.

When his cell phone buzzed however, the cat lifted her head, peering out at him.

"Sorry," he told her before quickly reading the message.

_Heya, stranger. What are you and Downy up to?_

Casey glanced at Downy. "What _are_ we up to?" His fingers agilely responded and he pressed the send button. He smiled a little at his response and, partially, at the fact that she'd contacted him at all.

* * *

She idly checked the selection of sodas in the vending machine. They were out of grape soda, and she had a thought that made her shiver: what if Morgan was around?

Pushing that idea out of her head, she made sure that the machine still had at least one diet soda. The machine told her they were being kept at a frigid thirty-seven degrees. It would be icy cold, plus it would give her the caffeine boost she'd need to get through the rest of her shift. But, the coins in her pocket didn't quite equal enough money to get one.

Before she could be too disheartened, she got a message.

_Plotting to take over the world. You in?_

She chuckled, answering him without hesitation.

* * *

Downy exited the hamper and sat with him, eying the offending device that had dared to wake her from her slumber. She sniffed at it cautiously before looking at Casey, as if to ask him something.

"No, you can't eat it."

Her ears angled backwards.

"No, it's not an enemy."

Casey had never seen or heard a cat _huff_ in annoyance but he was pretty sure he saw Downy accomplish it.

She slunk down further when the cell phone buzzed in Casey's open hand.

As Casey opened it, she tried to smack it with her paw, claws extended.

"Easy, there, it's just your mom," he told her before reading what she'd sent.

_Depends. Do I get a cool title?_

Casey had to think for a moment before texting back.

* * *

She'd walked back to her locker in the doctor's lounge, to see if she had some spare change hiding somewhere. The more she thought how nice a soda would be, the more she craved it.

Technically, sure, a cup of coffee would do the same job, but hospital coffee was notoriously bad, even for the hospital's personnel. There was never any way to tell who had prepared it, or how long it had been sitting on the burner. Canned soda, on the other hand, was prepared the same every time. The quality of the product was what she was after. She knew exactly how good it would taste and she desperately wanted one.

As she found a nickel that had fallen behind a medical text, she received his message.

_Take any title. My suggestion: Queen. Downy's suggestion: Pawfect Mastermeowind._

She laughed openly, hitting the respond button.

* * *

Casey wasn't entirely sure what to make of her next text.

_Does that make you King in return?_

Before he could fully consider his response, the phone buzzed again. He expected it to be Ellie apologizing or saying that the previous message had been a joke, but that wasn't it at all.

_Count me in._

_

* * *

_

Stay tuned...


	26. Aftermath

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Additionally... I did not realize, when I wrote this particular chapter, that it would shake out to post this weekend. I was just trying to catch the story up to canon. Dedicated to those who have lost, and those who remember. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie and Casey spend a Sunday apart but still manage to keep each other entertained.

* * *

Aftermath

* * *

She sat in the apartment, staring at the darkened flat-screened television set. Everything was different now. Her world, while it hadn't been perfect, had been rocked to its very core. Her father was gone. He was dead. She'd seen it happen.

It was such a stark contrast to her life before-this new life-that it was somewhat frightening. Chuck was a spy, Casey was a spy, Sarah was a spy... Devon and Morgan had both known. While, certainly, she'd known somewhat about Casey's injuries from protecting Chuck and that he was still a Marine, she never would've imagined that the reality of the situation was, well, so close to home.

She'd put her foot down. She'd demanded that Chuck quit and, to her knowledge, he did. She'd seen the change that came over Casey and Sarah, from having to protect Chuck to just living in the same apartment complex with him. What had annoyed her most, though, had been the relief that had blossomed in Devon.

There was nothing _good_ about the situation.

Her nerve endings were frazzled, her emotions had turned upside down, but not Devon's. Her husband was oh so _nonchalant_ about the whole damn thing that it drove her mad, to the point where she was actually glad their schedules didn't coincide at the hospital. She'd much rather be at Westside when he wasn't there, and home when he was at Westside.

Life wasn't supposed to be like that, was it? She wasn't supposed to want her comings and goings to be diametrically opposed to her husband's, was she?

She just didn't want to hear him, though. She didn't want to hear him try to cheer her up. She didn't want him to tell her some _awesome_ story.

Her life was not _awesome_; it was empty.

She hadn't realized how much of a part her nonexistent father had played in her life until she felt this gigantic _hole_ where he used to be. Didn't Devon understand that?

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to will the tears that were welling up in her eyes for the hundredth time to _stop_.

* * *

He sifted through what was left of the Castle. While the majority of the base was beneath the yogurt shop, a significant portion had been under the Buy More, which had been reduced to a pile of smoldering rubble thanks to the _spy_ he had _recruited_.

Morgan had his value, but not with explosives.

If the geek's hands hadn't already been broken, he might've done more damage. As it was, the plaster casts and being unable to hold a video game controller would have to be punishment enough, at least from him. Beckman was another story entirely.

He sighed, hefting a charred security door out of the way. The computer components within the server room looked completely fried. He wouldn't have minded having Chuck's expertise, to see what, if anything, was salvageable.

But, he couldn't. Not at Castle. Castle was a sanctuary for undercover operatives, of which, Chuck wasn't one anymore.

Chuck had promised Ellie that he would quit, and he had. And Casey really couldn't begrudge the kid keeping a promise to his sister.

He pressed the power button on the access terminal, hoping that it wasn't beyond repair. It took a little longer than usual, but when the security requests finally came up, he was able to enter his username and password. The screen, while cracked, still showed him six different views of the apartment complex. He cycled through the cameras, seeing that Sarah and Chuck were having an awkward-looking conversation in their living room. He saw that his apartment was secure. He saw that the courtyard was empty, that the roof was clear, and that Devon's parking spot was empty but Ellie's wasn't.

While he knew, perhaps, he shouldn't have, he accessed the cameras still within the Woodcomb apartment. They were from Chuck's days of staying there but they had been left to monitor and ensure that the adventure-sports cardiologist hadn't let anything slip to someone he shouldn't have.

Ellie sat in the middle of the apartment, staring off into space.

In all of his time watching the Bartowski family, in all of his Sundays spent with Ellie, he'd never seen her quite like _that_ and it bothered him. It bothered him more than he could've ever imagined it would.

She looked despondent and lost. She looked like there might be other, more long-term concerns. Post-traumatic stress came to mind.

He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to come up with some way to help her. He'd heard from Sarah, who'd heard from Chuck, that Devon was having a hard time trying to relate to Ellie since Stephen had died. Devon didn't have a similar experience from which to draw. While he could sympathize, he couldn't _empathize_.

And Ellie, clearly, had all the sympathy she could take.

She stood abruptly, squaring her shoulders. He followed her, through the various camera angles, as she headed out of the apartment and into the courtyard. She continued through and around to the laundry room.

He'd removed the microphones from the laundromat after his "telling" Ellie who he was, but not the cameras. While he liked the idea of being able to speak a little more freely, he couldn't take the cameras out entirely. The strategist in him didn't like the idea of having a blind spot in his backyard.

He saw her open her mouth and say something. He could only assume she'd called for Downy as the cat came obediently to her owner.

Ellie scooped her up, carrying her out of the laundry room, back across the courtyard and into her apartment.

* * *

The cat explored the living room under Ellie's watchful eyes. There was so much to sniff and experience and check out. While Downy had been in Ellie's a time or two before, it was never for very long.

She laughed a little when Downy investigated a pair of Devon's shoes and immediately backed away. "Yeah, those are the _awesome_ shoes he wears when he goes kayaking and hiking and... other activities."

Downy looked up at Ellie, who reached down to pat her head.

"I'm not doing well, Downy," Ellie said, easing to sit on the floor in front of the calico.

She tipped her head curiously to one side.

"Do you ever feel like your world's just spiraling out of control?"

Downy climbed into Ellie's lap, padding around for a moment before finding a spot she liked and settling down.

"I guess not, huh," she whispered.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	27. Not Soon Enough

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Big thanks to Raevon and GoddessofBirth, for the extra betas. :D

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie is heartbroken after the death of her father. Casey, from the charred remains of Castle, watches her in agony as she takes their adopted cat into her apartment.

* * *

Not Soon Enough

* * *

She'd gone for a long weekend with Devon up to wine country. Some bed and breakfast. Somewhere with a slower pace than L.A. Something to get her life back on track.

And so he was still at Echo Park, doing laundry by himself, looking at Downy who was batting around a new catnip toy.

"She say anything to you before they left?" he asked.

Downy glanced up when she heard his voice.

"Guess not."

Casey sighed, getting to his feet. This was the third Sunday they'd been apart. He never would've imagined that would turn out to be difficult to accept, but it was oddly painful.

She still wasn't herself, not since her father's death. And he understood that, but that didn't mean he didn't want to see her. He'd seen her in passing a few times in the courtyard, since it had happened, but he hadn't had the opportunity to say anything much to her. She was always bustling off with something to do.

She seemed a caricature of her former self, her real self. Normal Ellie was bubbly and slightly neurotic, so New Ellie was effervescent and over-the-top. There were still dinners and gatherings and family togetherness, but there was something _off_ about her.

He knew she was hiding her pain.

He knew something of compartmentalization. He'd been a spy a long time, a Marine even longer. He'd been trained, taught by the very best, how to take feelings and put them in boxes, locking them up tightly before shoving them into corners of his soul for later review.

He had so many locked boxes hiding within that he wasn't sure what they held anymore, not until he'd been faced with the realities of those memories.

Of Kathleen, of Alex.

The weirdest thing he'd come to learn was that he didn't miss Kathleen. While he had loved her once upon a time, he didn't love her now. He cared for her well being and was concerned for her safety, but that was as far as his feelings went.

Alex was another story. Alex was his daughter, his flesh and blood. She was a part of him in a way that Kathleen hadn't been and would never be.

The more startling revelation, however, was the fact that, since Stephen had died, since Ellie had become lost somehow, he missed her terribly. He wanted to see her more than just in passing. He wanted to talk to her more than just exchange pleasantries.

With her out of town, it was troubling to him how much he discovered that his heart _hurt _at her absence. He knew he had no right to feel that way about her. She was married to a man that was trying to do right by her, to help her to heal.

He just wasn't sure a weekend in Sonoma was the way to go about it.

* * *

She knew she should be thrilled. She'd long pestered Devon for a trip up north, to the mountains, surrounded by vineyards. Quaint shops and stores, cozy restaurants, a friendly atmosphere where the pace was practically foreign to that of L.A.

The scenery was breathtaking.

But, when he'd taken her on a sightseeing jaunt, she'd spent most of her time staring into space, completely oblivious to the fact that there were amazing things just in front of her eyes. She'd told him, however, that she'd never seen anything a more majestic vista.

The food was delectable.

But all she could do was go through the motions of eating it. She didn't really taste anything. She'd told him, however, that everything was divine.

The accommodations were pleasant.

She couldn't feel the softness in the cotton sheets or the feather-light quality of the duvet. She'd told him, however, that it was like sleeping on a perfect, puffy cloud.

All she could do was think about the time she'd lost.

Her father had spent most of her adult life gone. Even when he'd been there when she was a child, he was often scatter-brained or lost in his work. He'd missed out on so much of her life, she'd been shocked when he'd shown up days before her wedding.

When he'd vanished again, she hadn't thought, for one second, it was due to anything other than his absent-minded professor routine. She kicked herself for thinking that he was doing it out of selfish reasons as opposed to the truly _selfless_ reasons he'd done it.

She'd missed the opportunity to thank him, to tell him that she understood that there were reasons greater than any of them, why things were done the way they were done, why things seemed so odd or out of place but truly had a meaning, a purpose behind them.

She felt like time had passed her by. She felt like it was all too little too late, that nothing had been done anywhere near soon enough. Much like the trip she and Devon now endured.

She should be thrilled. It was a trip that didn't include death-defying stunts, some kind of sporting event, or any of Devon's old fraternity brothers. It had been a trip designed just for her. But, even as she watched him pack up their belongings for the trip home the next day, all she could think about was how much she wished she were home already. How she wanted to be in the laundry room, watching Downy do something cute, sitting in silence with Casey. Because, Casey would understand her need for quiet reflection.

She wondered when that changed, when she started to think that maybe someone else knew her better, or at least would let her _be_ herself better, than her own husband.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	28. Visitation

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Devon takes Ellie on a vacation to try to help her heal from her father's death. Casey does laundry by himself.

* * *

Visitation

* * *

It was Monday when he knocked on her door. Everything was in flux given the destruction of the Buy More, of the Castle, and with the mothballing of the Human Intersect Project given Chuck's abrupt resignation. Because of the long, strenuous strategy sessions that had followed with General Beckman and Sarah, he'd missed laundry day.

He deeply regretted that. He knew she was hurting, hanging on by a thread, and the last thing he wanted to do was add to the pain. While he wasn't sure if their weekly laundry room ritual would be painful or not, he hated that he'd missed it and hadn't been able to tell her why.

And, he missed his cat. When Ellie and Devon had returned from their long weekend away, Downy had wound up sequestered in Ellie's apartment again, not that he blamed her.

It took several minutes for her to open the door. Initially, she was surprised to see him. But, the light that had taken to her red-rimmed, watery hazel eyes dimmed almost instantly. "John." Her hair was a mess, tangled down around her shoulders. She wore blue jeans and a loose fitting tee shirt, her feet bare. It was clear that she'd been crying again.

Casey knew exactly why. It was because Devon was working, because Chuck was out at the old family house, cleaning up what remained of Stephen's belongings. Because she was alone and it was okay in her mind to be broken when she was by herself. "Hey, Ellie."

"I... um..."

Sensing her hesitation, her uneasiness, he continued: "I wanted to apologize. For yesterday."

"You're busy," she said. "I get that."

"And... for your father..."

She closed her eyes, running her fingers through her hair, tugging at the knots as she went. "It's okay, John."

Except, it wasn't, not to him. "Ellie, about your father-"

She held up a hand. "Don't. It's..." She swallowed hard. "It's okay," she repeated hollowly.

"No. It's not."

Her carefully created facade of being just "okay" began to crack. "I'm fine."

"Can we go for a walk?"

She glanced at her bare feet. "I'm not really..."

"Just, to the laundromat," he amended.

She placed her toes into the flip flops by the door. As she did so, she glanced further into the apartment. "Downy?"

The calico obediently jumped down from her perch in the front window, following her owner to the door. Even the cat seemed happy that Casey was there, going so far as to pounce on his shoelace when she spotted his familiar combat boot.

Casey smiled a little, scooping up the ball of fur, carrying her and escorting Ellie to the laundry room. Once they were safe within the confines of _their_ space, he let the cat down and spoke: "I know you aren't okay."

"Dad was never there anyway. It's okay." Why wouldn't he let her keep her lie? Devon let her keep it. Chuck did, too.

"I saw you... I've seen how it's affected you." Off her questioning look, he came clean: "There are security cameras all over the complex."

"That's... an invasion of privacy."

"It's a necessary precaution, to keep you safe."

"Well, _spying_ on my crying, that's probably a..." She struggled for the terminology. Her thoughts had a hard time navigating her brain. "Inappropriate use of governmental property or... something," she finished weakly.

He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, offering it a supportive squeeze.

It was the silent strength, something she hadn't felt since before her father had...

He watched as her facade did more than crack. The pieces crumbled, tumbling to the ground, shattering into a million pieces, much like the fragments that had to be all that remained of her heart.

She'd been holding onto the pain and misery by herself for too long. When she'd been around the others, she'd felt the need to hide the fact that she was hurting. But, her burdens were too heavy for her to shoulder by herself. Little Downy wasn't quite big enough to help lessen the weight enough for her to breathe, to feel anything other than agony, or to _heal_. "He's gone," she whispered.

Casey pulled her tightly to him. He couldn't bring Stephen back, no matter how much he wanted to, but he could be there for Ellie. He didn't whisper to her. He didn't tell her she'd be all right. He didn't tell her that whatever she was feeling was okay. She didn't need to hear that from him. She'd heard it too often from Devon, even from Chuck and Sarah, from Morgan. He didn't lie either, telling her he knew how she felt. He didn't. He couldn't. He just held her as her heartache finally broke free from her chest, as the emotion poured out from her.

He wasn't sure how long they were in the laundry room, how long he held her, how long she cried. All he knew was that when she finally, reluctantly, pulled back from him and dried her face, she looked better.

She took a slow, deep breath. She felt like she hadn't been able to take one of those, not since she'd _seen_ her father die. "John, I..." She wanted to thank him. She just wasn't quite sure how to convey to him how much he meant to her.

And that scared her.

How much did he mean to her? More than even she realized.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	29. Bundle of Nerves

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey misses laundry on Sunday, but stops by to see Ellie and Downy on Monday. Ellie finally breaks down after Stephen's death.

* * *

Bundle of Nerves

* * *

It had been a month since they'd actually seen each other on a Sunday, since they'd ventured to their place of weekend solitude on their normal schedule. Ellie was actually kind of nervous about it. Casey had been a tremendous help to her, more than he knew. She wanted to tell him, she wanted to thank him, but she wasn't sure how.

Ellie filled the first hamper, sorting out the clothes. Downy watched her idly. "You about ready to see your daddy, huh?"

The meow the cat offered was clear and loud.

She laughed softly. "I guess that's a yes, then, huh?"

Downy got to her feet, sauntering from one hamper to the other, sniffing curiously at each. She could tell a difference between Ellie's clothes and Devon's clothes, and when she knew which one held mostly Ellie's, she leaped into it.

"I can't think of what to say," Ellie began slowly. She was careful not to give too many details away. She wasn't sure what kinds of "security precautions" were in her apartment, but, after Casey's admission the week before, she wasn't going to take any chances. "I know it's hard to imagine. Me. Without finding the words. I usually don't have any trouble with talking... as, clearly, you can see."

Downy yawned, stretching.

"I just... There's so much that's... I dunno, that's different. I just... there's a different feeling now that I can't really..." She exhaled. "I can't really explain. I'm not sure I want to explain it, that I want to think about it all that much."

Her stomach seemed to turn flips. She felt like a teenager. She tried to quell those feelings. They didn't have any place in her life. It was confusing enough after the loss of her father.

She looked at Downy, scratching behind the calico's ears. "You'll keep my secret, won't you?"

Downy looked up at her owner, her yellow eyes so innocent.

* * *

Casey paced in his apartment. There was no reason he couldn't join Ellie. There was no mission to prep, no boring strategy meeting to attend, no need to defend against any threat to national security.

But, the closer it got to time to head to the laundry room, the more he wished something would happen. His phone would ring. Beckman would appear on his television screen. Even Chuck would come by with some bizarre question. Maybe Alex needed something.

He wouldn't mind seeing his daughter. He made a mental note to call her later on that afternoon, after laundry.

But that would mean _going_ to the laundromat first.

His clothes were ready, already sorted, waiting in his hamper. He had his detergent, his dryer sheets. He was prepared, as always, to go. He just couldn't help but wonder what would happen.

In the past several weeks, he'd had a lot of time to think. His mind was often a scary place alone, and his current train of thought didn't make it any safer. He kept having dangerous thoughts, unkind thoughts... thoughts where someone would get hurt.

But, it was a mission he'd never put into play. It was a mission, an objective, he couldn't go after. He was a Marine. He understood valor and honor.

The devil on his shoulder seemed to think otherwise, but Casey'd always been able to battle it back. So far, he was still doing all right. He was just fearful of the temptation, of what the proximity would do. After all, they'd been apart for quite a while now. He was afraid seeing her would be like a starving man seeing a feast, like a thirsty man seeing a waterfall.

He needed to be careful. Very careful.

* * *

It wasn't what either of them expected. While it was nice to see the other, it was almost awkward. Once they'd started their laundry, once they'd settled into their usual chairs, and after they'd shared initial pleasantries, it was strange.

He tried several times to say something to her, but he didn't feel comfortable breaking the silence.

She opened her mouth then closed it again. She wanted to tell him everything she'd been thinking about, but she just couldn't. When she opened her mouth again, she actually winced at what came out. "How's Alex?"

"She's good," he said with a nod. "Spoke with her Wednesday after class. She's definitely ready for graduation."

She smiled a little. "Proud papa, huh?"

He nodded, glancing at her. "How's, uh... How's Chuck?"

"He's still Chuck," Ellie said with a nod.

"And Devon?"

She momentarily froze.

He could tell he'd struck some kind of a nerve. "I... you had a trip, right? Somewhere..."

"Sonoma," she said with a nod. "It was all right."

Casey nodded.

Silence descended over them again. If they still had the older machines, they could blame it on the squeaking belts. The quiet was the main pro of the new washers and dryers, though, or it should've been. At the moment, it seemed more of a con. And the fact that the cycles were now shorter was a definite pro, when, before Stephen had died, it would've been, most definitely, con.

Everything in their lives now was so different.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	30. It Never Rains in Southern California

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Additionally, the titles in this chapter come from the song by Albert Hammond. No copyright infringement intended here either.

Very quickly, I want to thank again my dear friend Cindy Ryan, without whose imagination, this story wouldn't have been possible. Thank you for your generosity and your kindness. I'm so glad the fic community is a "small world" sometimes. : )

And, I want to thank all of you for going on this journey with me, Casey, Ellie, and a little adopted kitten. And what a journey it's been. Now, without further adieu...

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey and Ellie spend their first Sunday in the laundromat together in a long time, but it's not what either expected.

* * *

It Never Rains in California...

* * *

He watched as she stood at the open door. She leaned casually against the jamb, one finger hooked in the back pocket of her jeans. She looked heavenward, at the swirling clouds.

He couldn't help but notice it was a nice backside. He knew full well that she was taken, married to another man, but that didn't make him blind to her beauty. It didn't suddenly erase the sound of her laughter or the tender touch of her hands or the softness of her hair from his memory.

There was a definite difference between noticing her attractiveness and acting on it. He might've crossed a line or two or twelve when he'd tried to protect Kathleen, but that was different. Kathleen had been in danger. While it had been personal, it had been for good reasons.

But, even as he was committing the treason he was later dishonorably discharged for, he knew the ends never justified the means.

Ellie was taken. By, begrudgingly he would admit, an "awesome" man. More her age, having similar interests and, of course, the same job. What could he offer her anyway?

Downy jumped from his empty hamper as a distant thunder rolled through the air. She crossed towards Ellie, sitting on the ground between Ellie's feet.

He could offer a cat, apparently. And companionship on otherwise dull Sundays. Most importantly, he could, had, and would continue to provide the most important gift he could: undetected protection.

While initially it had been a way to keep the Intersect under control and placated, it transitioned from a distracted, impersonal duty to compassionate concern for a friend. The line had blurred until it had vanished completely.

He knew very well that he was playing with fire. And while it may have been cliché, it was that way because, so often, it was true. He was bound to get burned.

He had done it to himself. It was intentional self-flagellation. It might've been because he felt guilty for all of the morally ambiguous tasks he'd done under orders, without question.

Someday, it might be another regret to add to the list, that he'd been so close to someone he found himself caring for, deeply, and yet doing absolutely nothing about it. But, someday wasn't today.

Today was laundry day, an afternoon to spend with Ellie and Downy in the calm, safe Echo Park apartment complex laundromat.

"It's coming quite a storm."

He glanced up, pulled from his thoughts as Ellie looked back at him. "I'm sorry?"

Her smile was tender. "Lost, were you?"

Was he ever. "Apparently."

"Hear that wind?" It howled through the palm trees. Off his nod, she continued. "It's going to be a bad one."

Casey pushed himself off the folding chair, moving to look out the open door with her. He braced his hand against the jamb. The vicious wind she'd talked about blew into the room. It was cold, chilling, but it smelled so sweet. Like lavender and vanilla.

She backed into him, into his chest. "Sorry," she murmured, offering him another small smile.

He couldn't help but notice that she was practically in his arms, or that it was _she _who smelled like lavender and vanilla. Or how much he suddenly wished he really was holding her, watching the storm blow up around them, sheltering her from it.

She rubbed her bare arms, and he could see the tell-tale goosebumps spread and multiply across her skin. While, rationally, he knew it was because of the weather, secretly, selfishly, he had hoped part of the reason was his closeness. His proximity.

He wanted, desperately, achingly to reach out to her, to rub his strong hands over her skin, to warm her up.

But, that wasn't his place. That wasn't his job.

The desire, though, was nearly overpowering. What was better-or worse-was that she hadn't moved yet. She was still right there, in his space. She hadn't moved around him, either forward or behind. She was still right _there_.

It started sprinkling. A few gentle drops of rain spattering across the sidewalk. But, it grew quickly into a steady but gentle rain. Lightning danced across the sky, in and amongst the silver-gray clouds, followed by resounding thunder.

The wind picked up again, as the rain fell harder, faster.

Damned if he didn't feel like the weather was mimicking his feelings. His heart beat in his chest so loudly, he wouldn't be surprised if Ellie could hear it, even over the storm.

He knew he should back away. He should leave. Remove himself from the temptation. But, where could he go? Out into the quickening rain? Or further into the tiny sanctuary of the dry, warm laundry room?

It all seemed so small, so encompassing. He'd give anything to know if she even remotely felt the same way about him that he felt about her.

There was only one way to find out: to ask. The words swirled in his head. They refused to get in line, to form a coherent sentence. He'd never been particularly good at talking, but it had always seemed so easy with her.

At least, until now.

He'd never been scared of anything. He'd always been prepared, he'd always relied on his training. But, standing there with her, trying to sort through the thoughts in his head and the feelings in his heart, it was downright frightening. He wasn't sure he'd ever really understood the phrase "scared stiff" until then. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even breathe.

* * *

...Girl, Don't They Warn You...

* * *

She moved to stand in the open doorway, hooking a finger in the back pocket of her jeans. Sitting next to him, talking to him, being close to him... she felt more and more conflicted. More and more confused.

One of her best girlfriends from work had told her that it was perfectly normal to think about other men from time to time, even as a married woman. It could add to the spice of a sometimes humdrum existence. Her friend had asked her, point blank: how else do you think Johnny Depp makes the bank?

While, yes, he was great at what he did, he was also undeniably handsome. And he had the amazing ability to be a chameleon. Not impressed with his Captain Jack swagger? What about his Cry Baby attitude? His Edward Scissorhands tenderness?

While her friend had made valid points, Ellie kept coming back to the fact that there were several John Caseys. There was the seemingly un-driven green shirt. There was the sharp dressed man who showed up for dinner parties and events. There was the protective bodyguard for Chuck. There was the kitten adopter. There was also the fearlessness in the face of danger bravado. There was also the man who would kick in a door when he knew the woman inside was in trouble.

He was all of those things. But, even in the vastly different personas, he was still this tall, ruggedly handsome man. He was someone she was finding herself more and more attracted to as the weeks went on.

Downy joined Ellie, standing between her feet, looking out at the world outside the safety of the laundry room.

She smiled down at Downy a little before looking up at the sky, as the clouds continued to swirl and darken. She couldn't help but feel it mimicked her emotions. She was confused. How _did _she feel about John Casey? How did she feel about Devon? She didn't know. She couldn't decide.

She'd never seriously thought of another man, not since she and Devon had become serious. The thoughts never crossed her mind, not until recently. And they seemed to manifest themselves in one John Casey.

There was always an air of mystery around him, one of danger. She found herself drawn to that, to him. Like a moth to a flame.

She knew it was trouble, but she knew she was going to get burned. She just couldn't help herself.

The silence didn't help. "It's coming quite a storm," she said as she glanced back at him. She watched as he was pulled from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry?"

Her smile was tender but she couldn't help but wonder where his thoughts had taken him. "Lost, were you?" Somewhere dark and mysterious, she guessed. Just like him. Her heart beat a little faster as she saw a hint of _something_ play in his eyes.

"Apparently."

"Hear that wind?" It howled through the palm trees. Off his nod, she continued. "It's going to be a bad one." Her breathing increased as she saw him push himself to stand.

There was something about the way he carried himself. There was a purpose. A determination. A focus. There was power restrained, but ready and willing to be released at the right time.

He stood behind her, looking out the open door, at the growing storm clouds. He braced his hand against the jamb.

When another burst of the cold wind blew in and amongst them, she backed into him. "Sorry," she murmured, glancing up at him.

There it was again. That _something_ in his eyes she couldn't make out. Whatever it was, it flickered from the surface to being buried so deeply again so very quickly. She was desperate to know what was in his head, what he was thinking, what he _knew_. Because, he had to know something. That _something _had meaning even if she didn't understand it yet.

She was practically in his arms. She couldn't help but think that she would love to remove the "practically" part from the equation. She'd been there before. The first time was after watching that horrible horror movie. She remembered well, how his strong arms had encompassed her, how he'd held her against his chest. But, then, there had been the Fourth of July. Dancing on the deck of the Queen Mary, fast numbers, slow songs. She'd been in his arms for hours that day. The fireworks in the sky had paled in comparison to the ones she'd felt between them that day.

Idly, she rubbed at her arms. While her skin felt cool to the touch, she knew that the weather wasn't the only reason for the growing, spreading goosebumps across her skin. She couldn't get the memories out of her head.

She was a married woman for crying out loud. She was taken. There was no reason for her to be that close to him, there was no reason for her to want those things _from _him. Her heart, however, seemed to veto the thoughts in her head.

He was too good of a man, though. He was too honorable. He'd never want her, not while she was married. She couldn't blame him for that. But that didn't stop the thoughts. It didn't stop her heart's wildest, secret desires.

She closed her eyes, desperate to try to erase the images that her heart created for her. While enticing, while lovely, while _perfect_, she knew very well her reality. She was married. To Devon. Devon who was good and strong in his own right.

In some respects, Devon was surrounded by mystery.

But he didn't carry it the way Casey did.

In some respects, Devon was dangerous.

But, it was mostly a danger to himself as he was an adrenaline junkie.

She glanced at Casey, at the tightness in his jaw, at his eyes, locked on some fixed point out in the distance. It took a moment, but she realized he wasn't breathing. He was standing perfectly still. "John...?"

* * *

...It Pours. Man, it pours.

* * *

"John...?"

He looked down at her. His hand was still braced against the door jamb. She was still practically in his arms. He still wasn't breathing.

"John, take a breath. Please."

Casey knew if he were to inhale, he'd be surrounded by that scent again. Lavender, vanilla... her... Something he couldn't have. Something he shouldn't want. Something he was desperate for. He tilted his head slightly but made no moves to actually do as she instructed.

She turned, careful not to step on Downy, who moved further back inside. With trembling fingers, she reached out, placing her hand flat on his chest.

Her touch broke the spell and he took a ragged, deep breath. He tried to remind himself that he could breathe through his mouth, that doing that might prevent more longing for her, but it was too late. He inhaled through his nose first. "Ellie..."

She recognized a hunger in his voice. And when she looked in his eyes, she saw that look again and realized that was what it had been all along. Hunger for _her._ "John," she murmured in return.

He finally lowered his hand from the door. He put his arm around her properly, his hand finding the small of her back.

His touch was tender, electric. She felt like _they_ were lightning, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Feeling her heart quickening like the rain, she reached up slowly with her other hand, touching his face, watching as his eyes closed at her touch.

He kept telling himself he didn't want this, he didn't need this. Something about her skin on his felt _right_. It was something he couldn't deny, no matter how loudly he screamed at himself. He craved more contact.

Ellie watched his face, as his expression melted from tension to relief. Her fingers trailed lightly over his jaw, his chin. They dared explore the softness of his lips.

It was at that tender touch that he opened his eyes again. She was watching her fingers as they went on their expedition. There was a curiousness in her eyes, a desire of her own. If he'd thought he'd been playing with fire before, he knew he was now. He felt consumed by it. It seemed to fuel his recklessness, standing there at the open door, holding another man's wife in full view of the entire apartment complex, two security cameras he himself had placed, along with the government spy satellite tasked to follow the Human Intersect Project at all times. He didn't care because he knew now, for certain, that she felt the same way.

His fingers began their own dance across her back. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to mask the sensations.

She was desperate for more, but she'd never ask. She'd only take what he gave, how ever much he decided to. She looked up at him, in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt trapped by them, pinned right there. Thank goodness she didn't want to move, because if she had, she never would've been able to.

It was agonizing, the fact that time just seemed to stop. He didn't feel the rain anymore, or the wind from the storm. He didn't hear the washing machines as they hit the spin cycle. He was always acutely aware of his surroundings but, at this moment, the only thing he was aware of was Ellie, how she felt in his arms, how he could feel her heart pounding, how stunning she was, how much he was dying to know what her kiss tasted like.

She could still feel the energy around them, between them, within them. The storm outside couldn't hold a candle for the one _inside_ to go by. She knew it was coming. It was unstoppable. The only question that remained was when, not if.

Neither seemed surprised by the bolt of lightning that hit close to the apartment. Neither jumped at the crack of thunder that followed nearly instantly. Neither acknowledged that they were now standing in the darkness when the power went out.

All he knew was how much he craved her.

All she knew was how much she wanted him.

He simply couldn't resist. He pulled her tight against him, both arms around her, as his lips descended, finding hers.

She rocked up on her toes, desperate to meet him, hungry for his kiss.

It wasn't like what either thought it would be. It was everything and its complete opposite, all in one emotion. It was soft and demanding. It was fiery and passionate yet tender. It was intoxicating and sobering. It lingered forever but took no time at all.

When they finally stopped to catch their breath, they looked at each other, still holding the other close, tightly. Everything was different now. It was better and worse all at once.

"Ellie, I..." He hadn't meant for it to happen but he'd dreamed about it for so long.

"It's okay, John," she managed. It was everything but okay, but it would be eventually.

It was symmetry, he realized. Finding Downy on a rainy Sunday afternoon all those weeks ago. Finding Ellie on a rainy Sunday afternoon now. It felt like it was meant to be, like it was supposed to be, like fate.

She realized that the rain was blowing in on them. It hadn't even registered, that they were getting wet standing there. It didn't seem to matter. It had been something else, something bigger going on, something far more important.

The bridge was burned. There was no turning back. There was no ignoring what had happened, what had gone on between them. There was no denying that they wanted more. She could feel the electricity start to build again, the burning desires growing. What else could they do but succumb to the forces of nature?

* * *

End.


	31. Holding On and Letting Go

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Well... Okay, apparently Downy doesn't want to go away entirely. This particular chapter is un-beta'ed, and from a slightly different point of view.

While Downy probably won't be a regular weekly feature as she once was... her claws dug deep. She wanted to come out and be seen and heard... So... Who knows how long this series will go! Periodic updates will most likely be around holidays and other random times.

Also? I blame, in the nicest way possible, PlotBunny. :)

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: The inevitable finally happens. Ellie and Casey act on their feelings for each other.

* * *

Holding On and Letting Go

* * *

She sat and watched as clothes were flung from the closet into the open suitcase on the bed. UCLA tee shirts. Scrubs. Suits. She shrank further into the shadows when she heard him cry out in frustration, in loss. It was a painful situation for everyone involved, she knew. The whole atmosphere had shifted.

And he blamed her.

Not that she could do anything about it. She hadn't meant for it to happen. It had just been a warm place to stay on a cold, stormy afternoon. She'd craved the heat, the love.

Devon sighed when he zipped the suitcase closed. It wasn't just the _stuff_ he was packing up, after all. It was the reality of what his life had become.

His wife had cheated on him. Well, it was a kiss. It wasn't a wild, torrid affair. It had been a slow build, something that became inevitable the longer it went on. All that time that Ellie spent with Casey, all that time that had been _theirs_, and theirs alone. While he hadn't been invited, he hadn't been forbidden. There were several steps along the way when he should've stepped up, when he should've stepped _in. _He just never would've imagined _his_ Ellie falling for Casey.

Although, maybe that was the problem.

Clearly, she wasn't his anymore.

He would've loved to blame brainwashing, but he knew he couldn't.

His relationship with Ellie had started out with such a bang. A one-night stand in the middle of the afternoon, skipping class at medical school. She'd been wild Ellie then, a party girl okay with his fraternity scene.

If he were honest with himself, he'd know that wild Ellie wasn't _really_ Ellie. She was responsible Ellie. Family Ellie. She was the rock, the center of the universe. She was _home_. Responsible Ellie hated his partying ways, that he was still _that_ guy. That _awesome_ guy. The one who wanted adrenaline, who wanted adventure and crazy fun.

What was worse, he still wanted those things, even when Ellie lost her recklessness, her abandon.

The way he had aged, the way he had wised up, however, meant that he wanted _not_ to see her face when he spoke about the next great trip, the next _rush_ that he craved. The disappointment in her eyes, the concern tugging at the corners of her mouth, dragging them down instead of up.

As he tossed his books, trophies and other belongings into a box, he caught sight of her, still in the shadows of the room. "Hey, you."

Downy emerged from her hiding spot at the sound of his voice.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone, too, y'know. No more tuna-milk smoothies..."

The cat blinked.

He sighed. Easing onto the floor, he sat down in front of her. "I don't blame Ellie."

Downy tilted her head curiously.

"I don't. We... We always were different. I kinda figured, even after our initial... meeting... in the janitorial closet that she was a phenomenally awesome babe. But, I knew then, just never said, that she wasn't like me. She never joined a sorority. She never _fully_ let go. The one time she did, she freaked. And trust me, Ellie is a master at the freak-out. I always tried to teach her that there was a time to work and a time to play, but she never could just... _enjoy_ life. Not like I wanted her to."

Downy meowed.

"She's a great gal. Really. And Casey..." He sighed. "I know he'll protect her. Hell, that he'd probably die for her. I can't really begrudge them that, y'know?"

She moved slowly-almost hesitatingly-reaching one paw out and then another, until she was sitting in Devon's lap.

He'd never really pet the cat, never let his fingers run through her soft multi-colored fur before. He'd never really engaged her, not unless he was giving her an occasional smoothie treat. He inhaled slowly, deeply. "I can tell you're a good influence on her, too. I think you helped her more after her father died than I ever could."

Downy purred loudly, closing her eyes.

"Y'know, I always thought Ellie was a little crazy, talking to you... but you're a great listener. And I'm sorry I wasn't what Ellie needed, that I held on when I really shouldn't have."

* * *

She was supposed to be at the Red Cross meeting, talking about the next fundraiser, the next event, the next drive. Ellie'd been ready to jump in head first, into the charity meeting, to show that, even though her marriage was crumbling around her, she was still strong, that she was still standing.

Even if she'd wanted to, the meeting had been canceled at the last minute. So, instead of staying at the hospital an extra hour or two, she'd gotten home early.

Devon had wanted the time to pack up without her. She understood. She didn't want to cause him anymore discomfort. The admission of what she'd done had been painful enough. She didn't want to add to it, to compound the problems.

She'd planned on grabbing a change of clothes and going over to Chuck and Sarah's for a little while, but when she heard Devon talking, she'd stopped.

When she realized he was talking to _Downy_, she froze.

When she heard the magnitude of what he was saying, it was both painful to hear, but healing, all in the same breath.

Silently, she padded back down the hall and out the front door into the courtyard.

Stay tuned...


	32. Scaredy Cat

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: The inevitable finally happens. Ellie and Casey act on their feelings for each other.

* * *

Scaredy Cat

* * *

It was one of her favorite holidays. She wanted some sense of normalcy after her life had turned upside down since kissing a man who wasn't her husband, since her husband left. It gave her something to focus on, something to look forward to. It gave her a purpose, even if it was just to string purple and orange lights across the courtyard on Friday night. She couldn't dwell on the past, on what had happened. All she could do was move forward.

Which was why her annual Halloween Monster Mash Bash was back on the schedule.

She stood back to admire her work when she heard her cat, Downy, hiss at something. Looking over, she saw the calico with her back arched, her ears back, and her fangs barred. The calico had found the unusually-sized rodent beneath the extensive foliage in one of the planters.

"Downy," Ellie chided. "Nothing to be afraid of."

The cat, however, wasn't so sure as she reached out with a paw to smack the offending critter. The motion made the rat's eyes light up an unnatural crimson. More than that, an unearthly scream howled from the hidden speaker.

* * *

Casey was looking forward to calling it a night, to enjoying a little peace and quiet after a long week. There had been pranks galore at the Buy More, given teenagers' penchants for tricks once they grew too big to collect treats. He'd had to scrape gum off the underside of the chest freezer door, mop up a nasty, sticky soda _explosion_ in the men's room (seriously, how did cola get on the _ceiling_?), and then there had been the candy apple _disaster_...

If he ever saw one of those again, it would be entirely too soon.

He readjusted his black backpack on his shoulder, trying not to grunt at the fact he was still wearing that infernal green polo shirt.

And then he heard it.

The _shriek_.

He sped into the courtyard just as Downy was coming out. "Downy?" He felt his blood run cold. "Ellie!"

Except, she was fine, lost amid a sea of fake spiderwebs and plastic skeletal remains. She smiled, blushing a little, when she realized he'd been worried. "Hey."

"Hey..."

"You want to give me a hand?" she asked, pointing toward the second story balcony, where she couldn't quite reach on her stepladder.

He smirked somewhat. "On one condition."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You have to tell me how you can be _deathly_ afraid of scary movies and yet love Halloween."

Ellie smiled, climbing back down to stand on the ground, watching as Casey took her place. "When we were kids," she began, "Mom was like... _supermom_. Homemade costumes, caramel corn, candied apples... Halloween was part of the whole day, from pancakes with 'bloody' strawberry syrup to jack-o-lantern cheeseburgers... Y'know, with the faces cut out of the cheese slice? It was an _event_, not just a day. It was when both of my parents acted like children. It was memorable and fun. And, after she left, I tried to continue that tradition. Hence..." She gestured around the courtyard.

He nodded, reaching his long arms to stretch the spiderwebs in as artistic a fashion as he could.

"But, scary movies are not fun. They may be memorable, but they're designed to scare you. And, life's scary enough. There's no need to add to it, particularly in gruesome, grotesque, _over the top_ ways."

"Makes sense," he acknowledged.

She smiled. "So, you are coming to the bash, aren't you? Sunday night. Starts promptly at 7:13."

"I'm surprised it's not at 13:13."

"One PM's a little on the early side to get your _spook _on, don't you think?"

He shrugged.

"And, you better be in costume." She spoke quickly, cutting off the grumble that rumbled from his chest. "It's _required_. And don't think you can get away with being a soldier or something..."

"That seems a little unfair," he said, glancing back at her. "I'm in costume _everyday_." Case in point, he was still wearing his Buy More duds.

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest as he descended. "Anyone can be a Buy More worker or... or a tuxedo-wearing James Bond or a fatigue-wearing Marine. Halloween is about the impossible and the improbable. Be a classic Universal Pictures movie monster... or... or a superhero from Krypton. Even Death itself with a big scythe. Please?"

He never could refuse her. The puffball of fur at his feet eying its fake nemesis was further proof. The tacked on plea hadn't been necessary. Really, she'd had him at _required_. "I will be appropriately in-character," he promised.

She grinned widely.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	33. Trick or Treat

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie's decorating the courtyard for Halloween, and there's a party. And at that party, all guests must be in costume, no matter how much Casey wishes he could avoid that little detail.

* * *

Trick or Treat

* * *

He looked at himself in the full-length mirror in his bedroom. He couldn't believe he'd been talked into _this_. When he'd gone to the costume shop, they were picked through. The sale had started two weeks prior and had cleaned out what would've been his first, second, third, even fourth and fifth choices. Given his size and stature, there wasn't much left.

He was somewhat certain he could've lived with the pinstriped zoot suit, or even Count Dracula's cape and fangs. But this? This was too much.

For Ellie, though, he'd move heaven and earth. For Ellie, he'd do anything, so wearing the costume seemed doable.

He'd had other options, after all. Clown. Convict. Even monk. None of those seemed dignified enough. Although, looking at the _tights_ (yes, tights) on his legs, he wasn't so sure he should've discounted the dark brown monk's robe and rosary so quickly after all.

The alarm clock next to his bed said it was already ten after seven. While all he had to do was emerge into the courtyard, which had been a flurry of activity up until an hour ago, he didn't want to be late.

* * *

She adjusted her headband, looking at her reflection. Not too bad. Certainly not as uncomfortable as the infamous Adam and Eve year had been. While she'd gotten complements on the glorified bikini covered in fig leaves, it had been precarious to walk in, to _wear_ in public.

This year, however, was different. Even after having _just_ broken up with her husband, ending her seemingly perfect marriage, she felt surprisingly at ease in her own skin in her chosen costume.

Plus, it was fitting, given one of the newest members of her family. "Downy?"

The calico lifted her head, causing her special Halloween collar to sparkle, catching the light from the nearby lamp. She'd been perched in the window, watching the courtyard for signs of movement from her rat friend.

Ellie shook her head slightly. "Let's go greet people, hmm? It'll be... purrrrfect," she said in her best Julie Newmar impression as she scooped Downy up in her arms.

As she expected, those in the apartment were the first to arrive. While she'd hoped Casey would be first, she couldn't help but smile at Morgan as he emerged from his door.

For the first time, he was _without_ that awful sandworm or earthworm or... _whatever_-worm costume. She understood the ears and the cape, but the hairy feet threw her for a loop. "Morgan?"

"Shh!"

"Wh... what?" she asked in a whisper.

"I'm keeping it secret, keeping it safe..."

She shook her head as he wandered off, heading toward her punchbowl steaming with dry-ice.

Chuck and Sarah weren't far behind Morgan, in matching light-up Tron costumes. Ellie realized what her brother had with his girlfriend was _absolutely_ true love.

Before she knew it, the courtyard was nearly packed with vampires and werewolves, angels and devils, even a scarecrow and a pumpkin. When the Buy More employees began to crash her party, however, she became nervous. _What_ were they doing there? And _how_ could she get them to leave?

She didn't mind Bunny so much, in her tight Wonder Woman costume. At first, she thought Bunny's date, Skip, was Frankenstein, but there was a distinctive _lack_ of bolts and scars. The beanpole of a nerd had dressed as the Hulk, she decided finally. Hardly convincing, but she wasn't about to dash his Halloween fun.

For a moment, she didn't recognize Sonny, in a hairy pair of pants and a buckskin vest, complete with fringe and Cher, in a minidress and platforms. At least, not until Lester _looked_ at her, whipping the hair of his long, black wig over his shoulder.

Her _eyes_ were burning, she just _knew_ it. And if her eyes were burning, she couldn't imagine what was happening to poor Downy. Trying not to wince, she covered the cat's eyes, quickly disappearing back into the center of her party.

After seeing everything in the world she could think she _never_ wanted to see, it made her realize all the more that there was something she _did _want to see that she hadn't been able to see yet. Where was he? Her hero? Her knight in shining...

Her jaw dropped when his front door opened and all six feet, four inches of him emerged from the darkness within. She was rendered completely and totally speechless, taking in the tights and boots, the... _utility belt_, the familiar crest across his chest, complete with cape and cowl.

While they hadn't coordinated their costumes, they couldn't have done better in their selections if they'd tried.

It was Chuck, however, who managed to give voice to her shock. "Holy costuming, _Batman_."

* * *

The first person he saw was Alex, who had just flit into the center of his view, a vision of black lace in sparkling, gossamer wings. While he wasn't exactly _thrilled_ with the way Morgan was looking at his daughter, he did appreciate the smile she gave him.

He didn't appreciate, however, when Morgan's gaping turned on _him_. Or when Jeff and Lester openly laughed at him.

At least _he_ wasn't wearing a dress.

And then the entire rest of the crowd vanished. All that remained was _her_. He swallowed hard, recognizing her get-up instantly. After all, he'd grown up with Adam West _boffing_ and _whamo-ing_ bad guys in Gotham City.

While he'd never admit that to the nerds in his life, he did have _some_ knowledge of geeky things. Like, he knew enough to know that Batman had a thing for Catwoman.

And did he _ever_.

He slowly crossed to her. "Citizen..."

Her shock melted into happiness-no, into _giddiness_. "I think we're _way_ past that, aren't we?"

He smiled, nodding. He was silent for a moment, a long moment, before he finally said: "Happy Halloween, Ellie."

"Best one ever, John," she returned.

Downy wasn't so sure that was her other owner. She eyed Casey critically for a moment but, when she heard an all-too-familiar _contented_ grunt, she eased, resting peacefully in Ellie's arms.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	34. Thankful

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

I'm very thankful for my dear, sweet, wonderful Jellie gals. My life wouldn't be anywhere near so much fun without you ladies. May your Thanksgivings be bountiful, and your holidays be bright.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey, Ellie, and Downy enjoy Halloween in the courtyard with their friends and family. A little bit of normalcy in Ellie and Casey's otherwise hectic life.

* * *

Thankful

* * *

Holidays were notorious for ER visits. Thanksgiving had proven to be no exception. She'd helped treat minor and major burns from turkey fryer accidents to yams gone awry. There had been a few broken bones and jammed joints from "touch" football games that hadn't stayed that way. It seemed every time she turned around, a patient was thankful for her.

And she was glad for that. Really. Except, when her replacement couldn't make it, when she had to pull a double-shift, the longer she was there, the more all she could think about was how her turkey was waiting to be roasted to a moist golden brown. How her bread dough was still rising in the refrigerator. How her sweet potatoes were neglected. How her cranberry sauce was still in berry form, not yet processed.

All of her traditions were gone.

The cold turkey sandwich someone had grabbed from the cafeteria for her looked so completely _unappealing_. It was supposed to have been for lunch, which had been hours ago, and now it just looked limp and lifeless.

She sighed heavily when her phone buzzed with a text message from Chuck.

_Coming home anytime soon?_

Ellie looked at the sandwich again with a deep sigh. _Hopefully_, she responded.

* * *

He'd overseen any number of more difficult operations, so he thought he'd have no trouble commanding this one. It proved more trying that he anticipated, however, even with the addition of two kitchens to the mix.

All three ovens in the apartments spread around the courtyard were going. Morgan and Alex manned the one at Chuck's apartment (so Casey could keep an eye on them). Chuck and Sarah were in Ellie's place, and Casey worked solo. Well, Downy was there, making laps in his delectable smelling kitchen, but she wasn't exactly a very good sous chef.

He had the turkey and was glazing on schedule. On his stove top, he steamed broccoli and corn.

Alex and Morgan were in charge of desserts—both pumpkin and pecan pies—as well as the sweet potatoes with mini-marshmallow topping.

Chuck and Sarah baked up the bread dough from Ellie's fridge, followed by Ellie's recipe for homemade cranberry sauce.

They were in the process of accomplishing probably a day and a half's worth of cooking in a matter of hours. And Casey wasn't sure how well they were going to do.

"Well?" Casey barked into his watch.

"ETA, 30 minutes, big guy," Chuck reported.

"Status updates," demanded the Colonel.

"Cream whipped, pies cooling and marshmallows are gooing," Morgan said happily.

"On time," added Alex.

"Bread in final bake," radioed Sarah. "On time."

In the background, however, Casey could hear the blender whirring.

"Cranberry sauce is... well, it's in progress," Chuck said. "Should've bought a can, just in case."

"That's cranberry jelly, not sauce," Alex clarified.

Casey laughed, looking at Downy and smiling with pride. "That's my girl." Clearing his throat, he radioed again, lifting his watch to his lips. "Walker, what's the table situation?"

"Cloth down, places set. Just need people."

"Roger that. Alex, Grimes, commence move to Ellie's."

"Copy," radioed Morgan.

* * *

No one had met her in the courtyard. And there were so many _excellent_ scents from the complex. It made her heart hurt and her stomach growl. Could turkey and dressing be the same the day after Thanksgiving? She was pretty sure it couldn't.

She slipped her key into her lock and opened the door. Before she could hit the light switch, however, someone deeper in the apartment did.

Her table was set and filled with mouthwatering bounties. Most importantly, it was surrounded by the people who cared for her most in the world, and for whom she was eternally grateful.

With everyone in their finest, she felt out of place in her scrubs. "John... Guys..."

"Welcome home, Ellie," said Casey.

"This... I..."

Downy jumped from Casey's arms and raced toward her.

Ellie dropped her purse and her keys on the door by the table, and stooped to scoop Downy up. After the world's longest day, after the most amazing gesture from everyone in the room, all she could do was fight the tears that threatened to slip from her eyes.

As Casey crossed to her, Alex linked her arm with Morgan, and Sarah smiled at Chuck. They'd done something wonderful that day, even if they had been completely _inexperienced_ Thanksgiving rookies.

She couldn't verbalize how thankful she was for him, for any of them. But when Casey got close, she rocked up on her toes, kissing his lips tenderly.

Alex smiled, resting her cheek against Morgan's shoulder. It was nice, to see her dad _happy_.

Chuck, however, wasn't sure what he thought about what was unfolding before them. All he'd thought about was doing something nice for his sister that he'd neglected to think about the fact that he was helping the interloper who'd destroyed his sister's marriage... But, the interloper was Casey, who he'd always respected and had quickly learned to trust.

As Ellie pulled back, Casey whispered, only loud enough for her and Downy to hear: "I'm thankful for you, too."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	35. Falling to the Dark Side

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie spends most of her Thanksgiving at the ER, but there's still a big, wonderful family meal when she gets home, thanks to Casey's plan.

* * *

Falling to the Dark Side

* * *

Ellie looked up from the schematics rolled out on the coffee table, suddenly in a panic. "How are we on time?" It was such a delicate operation. Time was of the absolute essence.

Sarah checked her watch. "Not quite three AM. We're still good."

Alex pointed at what she thought might be a short cut. "What if I run through jewelry on my way to home appliances?"

Ellie shook her head.

"Jewelry bottlenecks," Sarah said knowingly. "Safest bet is a jog through linens."

"You guys do this often?" asked Alex, glancing back and forth between the older women.

"Third year running," Ellie said with a smile. "And the student has become the teacher," she added, proud of Sarah.

Morgan padded blindly into the living room, to the kitchen. He winced against the lights. "What are you ladies doing up?" He stopped. "Geez, what are you three _planning_?" he said, looking at the papers strewn from one end of the room to the other. "Some kinda bank heist?"

"Not exactly," Alex said.

Morgan paused, taking in the comfortable but form-fitting clothing, the running shoes, the jackets and shoulder bags. "Oh, no. No, no, no. You're _them_, aren't you? Black Friday shoppers?"

"It _is_ the single greatest shopping day of the season," Ellie pointed out.

"It's the single _craziest_ shopping day of the season. If I didn't have to go, I wouldn't. Trust me, running a real fake Buy More isn't all it's cracked up to be on days like this. Obligatory days. Columbus Day sales. Labor Day sales. Memorial Day sales... And Black Friday. They made up a holiday just to have a sale. That is _so_ not fair."

Before any of the ladies could rebut, there was a knock at the door.

"You expecting more crazy people?" Morgan asked as he crossed to the front door, opening it. He blinked when he came face to face with a feline. "Downy?"

Downy meowed.

Casey grunted. "Seems Downy knew there was a hen party in here," he said as the calico jumped from his arms and crossed to Ellie, Sarah and Alex. "Wouldn't let me sleep."

Morgan, who was in his Darth Vader pajamas, looked hopefully at Casey, already dressed in blue jeans and a black polo. "Since you're up, I have a wonderful, amazing, _stupendous_ idea."

"No," Casey said quickly.

"But... But, you haven't even _heard_ it yet. And did I mention it was _stupendous_?"

"You want me to work today at the Buy More," said the Marine matter-of-factly.

Morgan nodded hopefully.

"That's not a _stupendous_ idea. It's a _stupid_ idea."

Morgan deflated.

"There is an alternative to that plan," Ellie said, glancing up at Casey.

"And what's that?"

All three ladies exchanged looks. Downy even meowed again.

"You could come with us," suggested Sarah.

Morgan immediately shook his head. "Black Friday is not a place for the faint of heart or..." Casey wasn't exactly _weak_ by any means. "Or... or _men_. Men of any kind. Men who will be relegated to purse-holding status or purchase toting. That's... that's _not_ dignified for a soldier, is it?" Morgan asked, punching Casey _very_ lightly in the arm. "No way. No, sir." Morgan could tell, however, that he was fighting a losing battle.

Alex blinked her big blue eyes at her dad.

"For... For a _spy_, no."

Ellie's expression was filled with hope.

"For... for a trained _killer_!"

But, it was too late. "Sure."

"_Maaaan_," sighed Morgan, dejectedly heading into the kitchen. "You've done it now, big guy. You've fallen to the Dark Side."

Alex offered a tiny cheer. "Score! Buy More employee discount!"

"But, the merchandise is already priced so low-low-low..." Morgan winced when he saw Alex pout. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

While Alex and Sarah sorted the purchases on the living room table (with help from Downy, sniffing at everything) and Ellie whipped up breakfast, Casey poked around in the freezer, finding a frozen bag of peas and resting it on his shoulder. He'd had to check some would-be guardian of the last of the blenders out of the way. It had ended in an all-out brawl in the furniture section, complete with a kitchen stool broken over his back.

"How are you feeling?" Ellie asked, glancing worriedly at Casey as he leaned against the counter, watching her scramble eggs.

"I'm fine. I'm just... alarmed. How often do you do this?"

"Once a year. Every year," she answered.

"Those people are insane. They're worse than most _terrorists_."

"Are you kidding?" Alex asked from the living room. "That was the most fun I think I've ever had shopping!"

"Definitely my daughter," Casey muttered.

"It's usually not that bad," Ellie said, dipping thick slices of bread in her egg mixture, before frying up french toast.

"Next year," Casey began.

Ellie glanced up at him.

"Next year, you're not going without me. Next year, I'm bringing my _tranq gun_."

Ellie smiled broadly. Morgan had been right that morning. She had lured him to the Dark Side.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	36. Big Sister Dilemma

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey falls to the dark side, joining Ellie, Sarah, and Alex in Black Friday shopping.

* * *

Big Sister Dilemma

* * *

She'd been thinking about it for a while. Worried to death was more like it. It hadn't been all _that_ long, but the troubling thoughts she kept having she knew wouldn't stay beneath the surface for long. In fact, when she saw _him_ in the courtyard, she realized it was the moment.

She wasn't sure she'd get another opportunity, not between now and Christmas.

She dashed out into the courtyard of the apartment, a cat underfoot. "Morgan?"

The bearded one turned. "Hey, El. What's up?"

"I..." She hesitated.

Instantly, he went on high-alert.

"Do you have a minute?"

"For you, you bet'cha. Talk to ole Dr. Morgan, huh?"

She smiled tightly. "Well, I've been thinking about Christmas coming up..."

"Yeah..."

While it wasn't _exactly_ what she was thinking about, she decided to start with an easier question. "About what to get John."

"I'm not sure I can help you there," Morgan said, shaking his head. "Even Alex isn't sure what to get him. If the two women closest to him can't figure out what to buy the big lug, then how am I supposed to know? Short of a subscription to _Guns & Ammo_ which, I'm pretty sure, he already has... Maybe you could renew it for him?"

"That's a really good thought," Ellie said before quickly moving into other territory, hoping to _pounce_ before Morgan knew what hit him. "How is Chuck dealing with everything?"

"Oh, you know," he began, "he..." He drifted off.

It was almost like Ellie could see the brick wall Morgan had clearly run into.

Downy seemed to know that Morgan was at a loss, as she moved forward, rubbing against his shin.

"Why are we talking about Chuck? What are we talking about, necessarily, with Chuck? Y'know, 'cause I'm still thinking a-about Casey," he said stumblingly. "And you and Casey, that's... that's something, right? The way you two came together, the way... the way eeeeverything is different now..."

Ellie narrowed her eyes slightly-not angrily by any means but _curiously_. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, just, y'know, that was... that was fast. You and Casey. Because you and Devon..."

Ellie took a moment to process what he was saying as Morgan busied himself with scratching Downy behind the ears. "Chuck's not handling this well either, is he?"

Morgan swallowed hard. "Y'know, Ellie, I'm not really... I'm not really sure that I'm the one you want to be having this conversation with."

"Chuck's been avoiding me since Thanksgiving," she pointed out.

Morgan nodded slowly.

"And that's... that's on purpose, isn't it?"

He let out a squeaking noise as he tried to shrug innocently.

"Morgan..."

"Look, Ellie, he loves you dearly. We all do. But, none of us saw this turn of events coming, y'know? Everybody thought you and Awesome were, well, _awesome_. And then when you weren't, and then when _Casey_ was suddenly really, insanely prevalent in your life... That's... That's something that's different, y'know? That's something that the rest of us are having a hard time adjusting to..."

"Just who do you mean exactly when you say 'us'?" Ellie questioned.

Truthfully, Morgan didn't really care. He'd finally moved past his obsession with his best friend's sister. And Alex seemed to like them as a couple. In fact, she'd really taken a shine to Ellie. She thought that the doctor was really good for her father. And Sarah... Sarah's spy lips were tightly sealed, but he saw vestiges, hints of smiles whenever Ellie and Casey were around and together. He assumed that she was okay with it, too. Really, "us" was a bit of a misnomer. "Us" really just meant Chuck.

And the pause was very telling. For being surrounded by spies, for not knowing for the longest about what was _really_ going on under her nose, Ellie _was_ observant. She knew enough about her extended family to put two and two together and come up with four.

"I see," she said quietly, lowering herself to sit on the edge of the fountain.

"Look, Ellie, it's... it'll be fine."

"Fine?" she asked with a tiny, pained laugh. "It's... it's like all of the first spy years again," she said quietly. "With Chuck keeping things from me. There's that... that disconnect that's not supposed to be there."

"He wants you to be happy. That's all Chuck's ever wanted for you. And his weirdness about the whole situation with you and Casey won't make you happy and he knows that. That's why there's the 'disconnect.' He's not talking to you because he loves you."

She slowly looked up at him. "And that doesn't strike you as odd? As _wrong_?"

He looked absolutely uncomfortable. "I really don't think this is my place to be having this conversation with you, y'know? I really think that this is something that's... that's not for me to be getting in the middle of. You're you and he's him and I'm... I gotta make my peace somehow, right, 'cause I gotta live with _him_, unless you wanna put me up in your guest room. But, then again, Casey might not exactly approve of that one," he said, thinking aloud.

"Morgan..."

"Or, maybe, we could play musical apartments, right? You and Casey can move in together, I can take the empty apartment... Everybody wins! Maybe Alex would come and... Well, that's getting ahead of myself a little."

"_Morgan._"

He snapped out of his monologue. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He looked at her, _really_ looked at her. He was a long-time observer of the beautiful Eleanor Fay. He knew that she was hurting, that it was painful, what he'd revealed. Most of all, he hated that he'd been the cause of it, that he'd wound up kind of betraying Chuck's trust in the process. "Ellie, you can't... You can't tell Chuck I said anything, okay?"

"_More_ spying?"

"More like... more like doctor-patient privilege. Y'know. Dr. Ellie, Dr. Morgan..."

Ellie sounded absolutely defeated as she said: "Fine."

Morgan watched as Downy jumped into Ellie's lap, as she let her fingers get lost in the cat's soft fur. Reluctantly, he turned on his heel and headed toward his car. After all, he had a Buy More to run. And that was where he'd been going in the first place, when she'd stopped him. He closed his eyes tightly as he wandered out of the courtyard.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	37. Scruffy Looking Nerf Herder

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Additionally, no copyright infringement intended toward LucasFilm, either. Thank you.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie learns from Morgan that Chuck isn't exactly dealing with her new relationship very well.

* * *

Scruffy-Looking Nerf Herder

* * *

He watched as the imposing figure of John Casey cut through the electronics superstore toward the front door. Chuck easily vaulted over the Nerd Herd desk, his lanky legs quickly catching up to the NSA agent. "Hey-hey, Casey, where you headed?"

He regarded the younger man for a moment. "Pets R Us across the mall. Gotta get something for Downy for Christmas."

A goofy grin blossomed on Chuck's face. "You... you're one of _those_ kind of pet owners? The _gift-buying_ kind?" he asked, mildly amused.

Casey grunted, annoyed, as he stepped out into the sunshine of the Burbank afternoon.

Chuck, however, continued to follow him, undeterred. "Listen, big guy, I have... I have some _concerns_, some things I wanted to discuss with you and, really, being out of the _Spy_ More is probably the best place to have these conversations," he said, glancing over his shoulder at their real fake place of employment.

"What's the issue, Bartowski?"

"Well, here's the thing. As a kid growing up, I always dreamed of being Han Solo. And, I mean, who didn't, right? As the witty rogue, he's all kinds of fantastic. But, deep down, I have come to realize, much to my chagrin, that I am more Luke-like. I've been given this gift that I've had to try to learn to use... Y'know, the Intersect is _kinda_ like using the Force, really. I can do things I never imagined possible. Plus, it's like Yoda says: Do or do not, is no try. With the Intersect, there is no try, there is just _do_. Except, sometimes when it doesn't quite... work... correctly..."

Casey fought to keep from rolling his eyes. Of all the _idiotic _things that had come out of Chucks' mouth in the years he'd known him, he was starting to think that _this_ was going to take the cake.

"But, if I'm Luke, then that makes Ellie Princess Leia. Smart. Sassy. Great at _everything_. And so, if we continue on this metaphor, which, really, I think is quite accurate, then that would make you..." He paused, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was going to state his theory aloud. _To Casey_. Who might very well punch him. "Casey, that would make you the half-wit, stuck-up, scruffy-looking _nerf_ herder," Chuck said, quoting a line from Empire Strikes Back.

Casey stopped in mid stride, his blue eyes turning laser-like to the kid. "_Scruffy_-looking?"

The younger agent paused. Casey had missed what he'd tried to say _entirely_, though, granted, he could see where the Marine might've taken it out of context. "That makes you _Han Solo_, buddy. Shoot first, ask questions later... And he _did_ shoot first, I don't care _what_ revisionist history Lucas tries to give us." He could tell Casey was losing interest again, and he winced. When he spoke again, it was faster, louder: "But, my _point_... my point is this, all right? I never would've imagined you and Ellie together. Ever. But, for whatever reason... I guess..." He took a slow, lingering breath. "I guess it kind of seems to work."

One of Casey's eyebrows drifted up his forehead slightly.

"Much like the Leia/Han dynamic. She's... graceful and poised and you... Well, you don't exactly have a Wookiee as a co-pilot, but you're rough and tumble, a fighter. I'd say you love your guns as much as he loved his Millennium Falcon."

Casey put all of that through the Chuck filter, boiling it down to one simple idea: "So, you're okay, with my seeing Ellie?"

Chuck had to swallow hard. "Ellie's happiness is paramount," he said, answering by way of _not_ answering.

Casey jumped to the conclusion that he'd been wrong to assume that Chuck was accepting of the relationship that had been building for months, going on a year now, between him and Ellie. Casey, who had begrudgingly put up with Chuck's on-again, off-again with Sarah, who had, really, been _rooting_ for the two of them the whole time, realized that he had erroneously figured that, at some point, Chuck might return the favor, sister or no.

"Y'know, I didn't like Awesome either."

Casey looked at him curiously, having been successfully pulled from his darker thoughts.

"Truthfully, I think I've adjusted to you a lot faster than him. But, my life kinda depended on trusting you, not Awesome. Even though Devon was a doctor," rambled Chuck. "Devon wound up hurting her, though, I know that. It wasn't physical pain or anything, but it was _emotional _pain. After Dad died, after everything... I know it wasn't ideal anymore. So, the fact that you were there, to pick up the pieces..." He nodded a little. "But, just remember something, okay? If you hurt her, so help me, John Casey, I will unleash the full potential of the Intersect on you..."

Casey grunted, effectively ending Chuck's diatribe. "Listen, Chuck," he began slowly. "There are a few things I want you to know, without a doubt."

"Okay..."

"First, I didn't set out to fall in love with Ellie. It wasn't my goal or my plan. It just _happened_. Second, I never meant to upset your... _idyllic_... non-spy life with spy stuff, but _this_ is our reality now. Ellie and me. Third, and most importantly, I don't want to hurt her. Or... Or even you," he admitted. "And I know that hurting one of you hurts the other."

Chuck nodded a little.

Feeling that there was at least a _fragile _trust between them, Casey continued to head in the direction of the pet store and Chuck continued to follow along after him. "If it makes you feel any better?"

The Intersect looked up at him.

"I have _always_ seen you as that whiny Skywalker kid," Casey said, cracking a smile.

In spite of himself, Chuck grinned, too.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	38. What If

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Chuck confronts Casey about his relationship with Ellie.

* * *

What If

* * *

It was odd, sitting there, watching as he loaded his black duffel bag. He was a methodical packer. She watched as he unfolded and refolded his clothes, as he checked and rechecked his ammunition. There was a peculiar sensation that bubbled up from the very pit of her stomach. For the longest time, she couldn't place it, so she just sat there, on his bed, watching him.

Downy occasionally wandered over to her lap, sitting for a few minutes before climbing into Casey's suitcase, only to be removed by the Marine, resetting the cat's cycle.

It was only four days before Christmas. Four days before one of the biggest holidays of the year... and he was leaving on a mission.

"You don't have any idea when you'll be back?" she asked, looking up at him.

He could placate her, telling her he'd be home for Christmas, but he didn't know for sure, and he hated the thought of lying to her. "I should be, but I can't promise you anything."

She nodded, watching as he carefully tucked another gun in and amongst his clothes in the suitcase. While she should've embraced the fact that he was taking care of himself, that he'd be taking care of Chuck and Sarah, too, her mind took her to dark, scary places.

When Downy again jumped into the suitcase, he lifted her, whispering to her warm, fuzzy body. "No stowaways."

Ellie watched as Downy sat where he placed her for only a few seconds before getting up to explore some other place in his bedroom. The silence of his packing his toiletries was almost more than she could take. "What if you don't come home?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked over at her. "What?"

"What if... what if you don't come home?" she asked a little louder.

He shook his head. "I'll be home. I'll be fine."

"You can't guarantee that, though, can you? And I've... I remember, y'know. Seeing you. After missions gone _horribly_ wrong. What if you get hurt?"

"NSA has good medical teams, even overseas. I'll be taken care of _if _something were to happen. Which, it won't."

"What if the mission doesn't go as planned? What if there's some... _something_... that you didn't plan for. Some _something_ that you didn't know about?"

"Ellie, do you know what my particular skill set includes?" he asked, adding his flack jacket in on top of his suitcase.

"Calming down girlfriends? Because it's _not_ working."

"I'm the tactician. I'm the planner, the strategist. If it doesn't go as planned, if something were to go wrong, then I'll get us out."

Ellie swallowed hard. "What if... What if it comes down to a choice? What if it comes down to either you coming home or Chuck coming home?"

Casey didn't look at her at first. He was honor bound to protect the best interests of the country, and that meant _saving_ Chuck at all costs. Even if that included _his_ own life. "Do you know what Chuck's particular skill set includes?"

"Mad Halo skills?"

He smirked but no, that hadn't been what he was thinking. "Unconventional thinking," he told her. "Chuck's a great spy because he wasn't quite trained like the rest of us. He's not jaded, he's not been doing this his whole life... He has a unique way of looking at things that Walker and I don't. Between the three of us, the _team_, we'll all come home."

Ellie wanted to believe him. Desperately, she wanted to believe him.

He could see the swirling clouds of doubt still in her eyes.

"But, what if you _don't_?"

"We can't play this game, Ellie," he said, quietly and seriously. "You can't torture yourself like this. Borrowing trouble like that, it's... it's not healthy."

While she knew it was true, she couldn't seem to help herself. Not this close to Christmas, not when things were really just _starting_ for them. "That's what you do, though, isn't it? As a _tactician_?"

"Then leave those worries to me, would you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but wasn't sure _how_ at first.

"Let me worry about all those _what ifs_, let me figure out how to make them work."

"That's not what I meant."

"It makes sense to me," he said, turning to see if there was anything else he'd missed packing in his dresser.

With his back turned, Ellie slipped a small wrapped package into the side of the suitcase, tucking it between his crisp, white oxford and his favorite pair of black _mission_ pants. She made sure she looked like she hadn't moved, like she hadn't been leaned across the bed moments before as he tossed in a couple fake IDs in on top of everything.

"What about if we made a deal?"

"A deal?"

He nodded. "_You_ stop thinking of those 'what if' statements... and I'll do everything in my power to make sure that I, and Chuck and Walker, are home with _plenty_ of time for family Christmas celebrations."

Slowly, Ellie nodded. "Take care of yourself, Marine. Be careful..."

"I will be," he promised.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	39. Christmas Medley

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Because I have things to do this evening, candlelit services and whatnot, figured I'd go ahead and give this first present. Merry Christmas, everybody! I hope that your holidays are bright and wonderful. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey goes on a mission but not before Ellie nearly worries herself to death over a series of _what if _questions.

* * *

There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays...

* * *

It was way past time for a long winter's nap, but he just couldn't sleep. Sarah and Chuck had long since drifted off to dreamland. No doubt with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads.

He rubbed at his tired eyes. He was exhausted but it didn't matter how often he closed his eyes or how badly he wanted sleep to come, it was evading him.

It probably didn't help that his brain wouldn't shut down.

Even with his eyes closed, his mind kept racing. He did the math, calculating and recalculating the flight speed versus the wind drag, trying to figure out when they would make it back to Burbank. He kept annoying the crap out of the pilot, too, getting updates on their GPS coordinates, on the weather patterns. He was a man on a mission! While he appreciated that Uncle Sam was flying them home on a private plane, it just wasn't fast enough.

He wanted to get home for Christmas. He hadn't promised Ellie, because, as a spy, he knew he would break more promises than he'd ever be able to keep, but he wanted to get there, to to surprise her for the holiday. More than anything, he wanted to make her spirits bright.

She'd managed to make him look forward to Christmas, even from a half a world away.

He looked at the small wrapped package that rested on his knee. Reverently, he lifted it, feeling the weight of it. He turned it over, noting well the meticulous care she had clearly taken in wrapping it, so that the art deco Santa Claus was completely visible and centered on the front. It had been the very _last_ thing he'd expected to see on the mission.

Chuck and Sarah had been sitting on the couch in his suite, going over mission specs as he searched his suitcase, looking for the extra ammo he remembered packing. He'd froze when he saw the green and red paper, with the smiling North Pole elf looking up at him.

Only Sarah had seen the look of shock on his face followed by the quick movement, putting _something_ into his back pocket.

He'd tried to play it off, like nothing had happened, like nothing was different, but he should've known better than to try to put something past his partner. The only good thing had been that Sarah waited until Chuck had gone back to their room before she confronted him about it.

He'd shown it to her, too shocked to even put words to the fact that he had a Christmas present. The first one. The first one from Ellie to him.

While he was dying to know what it was, he couldn't bring himself to open it, not without her. He wanted to see her bite her lower lip as he slowly removed the paper. He wanted to see the nervousness tug at her smiling eyes as she wondered if he'd like it.

He wanted to see _her _as he opened it even more than he wanted to know what _it_ was.

He wished he had been smart enough to have a contingency plan in place, in case they didn't make it home on time. He should've left detailed instructions for Morgan on how to access the safe in his apartment. There were several layers of security the bearded one would've had to cut through, but Casey was mostly confident that Morgan would've been able to figure it out.

If not, Morgan would've been in lock-down within the apartment, but the security measures themselves weren't _fatal_, generally speaking.

Of course, really, he should've just left the wrapped present with Alex. She would've taken good care of it.

He sighed, setting the present in his lap again and trying to rest. He didn't want to be exhausted by the time he got home.

_Home_.

His whole adult life, he'd been shuttled about, from one base to another, one assignment to the next. Home was always the more generic (but grand) United States of America. But, now, home was different. Home was California. Home was Burbank. Home was Ellie and Alex and Downy. Home was, God help him, extended _family_, too,that included Chuck, Sarah and even Morgan.

He was _antsy_ to get back, to the point where the pilot asked if Casey would kindly let him do his job. To the point where Casey, a ball of nervous energy, finished all his reports and even the ones for Sarah and Chuck as well.

Even keeping himself busy, he wasn't busy enough. He kept coming back to the package.

Whatever was inside didn't really matter, not at that particular moment. The package was proof that Ellie cared. That was why he couldn't leave it alone. It was a tangible reminder of what they were to each other now, of how he was important to more than just his country.

Taking a slow breath, he looked out the window. For a moment, just a moment, he could've sworn he saw a red light, kind of like...

No.

Goofy folk-story critters didn't exist. Absolutely not. Rankin and Bass may have become famous thanks to the blinking nose of the antlered creature, singing songs, meeting abominable snowmen, but no. That wasn't at all real.

It was probably just another plane, off in the distance, or a helicopter... or even a tower.

Except, he looked again, just in case.

* * *

...If Only in My Dreams...

* * *

She stopped piping smiling faces onto gingerbread men and women when the song on the radio became more than just _background_ noise.

_Christmas Eve will find me... where the love lights gleam..._

Except, Christmas Eve found her alone in her kitchen, surrounded by more cookies, cakes and pies than she would ever be able to eat in a lifetime. With John gone, with Chuck and Sarah out of town, too, it was quiet. _Too_ quiet.

Morgan was still around, sure, and they usually saw each other passing in the courtyard, on their way to work or home from it, but it wasn't the same.

And Downy... Even Downy had taken to sitting in the window, watching the courtyard longingly.

Not that Ellie blamed the little darling at all. She missed him, too.

She sighed, brushing her hair away from her face with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of flour across her forehead. She'd done her best to keep busy, as evidenced by the fact that she'd turned her apartment into a Sugar Plum Fairy factory. But, after she prepared a small Christmas Eve dinner that evening-just enough for her, Morgan and Alex-she had a whole evening planned, filled with delivering all of her baked goods across town.

Her first stop would be the hospital, followed by the local police and fire stations. She knew exactly what it was like, to have to work a holiday. She'd been at the ER more than once on Christmas or Christmas Eve. She'd even been there at Thanksgiving, ready, wishing, and hoping to go home. If a red velvet cupcake with luscious cream cheese frosting or a lacy, light snowflake sugar cookie brought a smile to someone working hard on one of the most difficult nights to be away from family, then it would be worth it.

As she finished piping the buttons on a gingerbread man's vest, she paused, wondering if anyone had ever done anything like that for John. She looked at the veritable edible _village_ she had made, a collection of ten different gingerbread houses, thinking.

With that tray of cookies finally decorated, she set the piping bag aside and moved the tray to the dining room table, so that the icing could set, before beginning on dinner. Since there were only three of them, she had opted for a simple, toned down version of what she might've made had everyone been home.

* * *

By the time Morgan and Alex arrived, the living room had four large storage boxes filled to the brim with the prepared goodies, each individually wrapped and ready to go. The dining room table was set with a rich red table cloth, sparkling china and crystal water goblets, and lit with the soft glow of white, unscented candles.

Dinner smelled absolutely divine. The roasted chicken was a golden brown at the center of the table, surrounded by homemade rolls, Morgan's favorite sweet potatoes, broccoli and a tossed salad.

While Ellie kept saying it wasn't much, Alex and Morgan were both impressed with the spread along with the treats that were everywhere along the kitchen counters. The gingerbread village had been wrapped in cellophane bags, tied with a green or red ribbon. Each pie was covered in plastic wrap, as were the fruitcakes.

Alex realized that Ellie's collection rivaled the daily selection at the Pie Shack.

Morgan tried to keep Ellie occupied and smiling, talking about crazy things that had happened in the final shopping _rush_ at theBuy More. Alex talked about being finally finished with the semester, about enjoying the weeks off before starting it all again after the new year.

They could both tell, however, that it hadn't quite worked, not as well as they had hoped.

Alex had to head to her mother's for their Christmas traditions, and Morgan had to go back to the Buy More to make sure that everything was progressing smoothly during the last few shopping _hours _before finally getting to close the store for a whole whopping day.

Ellie watched as they left before looking at Downy, who was still sitting in the window, her amber eyes looking out. "You'll let me know, won't you, if your Daddy comes home before I get back, right?"

She meowed sadly.

"That's what I thought," Ellie said, reaching over and petting her head affectionately before pulling on her coat.

Those cookies weren't going to deliver themselves, after all.

* * *

As great as it felt, seeing the thankful, smiling faces of the officers and firemen, the nurses, doctors and even patients, nothing had felt quite as good as delivering the last _two_ gingerbread houses to the Buy More with another half hour to go before they closed.

The store had been packed, but Jeff and Lester had taken one to the Nerd Herd desk and Ellie had been sure to give the other to Greta with a meaningful look, reminding the blonde-haired Amazonian beauty that she was Chuck's sister, and that she wanted _both_ sides of the Buy More to have something... in honor of their hard work and dedication.

Greta had been the most taken aback of the whole night by the gesture.

But, once her car was empty, once every last dessert had been delivered, all that was left to do was go home.

There was no familiar black Ford Crown Victoria in the parking spot just down from hers. There were no lights on in Casey's apartment or Chuck and Morgan's. There was just Downy, still sitting in the window.

Ellie let herself into her apartment, dropping her keys by the door and kicking out of her shoes. She mindlessly walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk and selected three cookies from the tray she had left for family... whenever they would make it home.

Carrying her snack back into the living room, she set them on the coffee table before pulling the blanket down from the back of the couch, wrapping herself up in it.

For a little while, she watched television. She'd hoped Ralphie and his deep desire for a Red Ryder BB gun would keep her amused, but it didn't. She hadn't even _touched_ the cookies.

Before sleep threatened to take over, however, she snagged the notepad off the side table. She looked at the lined pages and couldn't quite believe she was seriously considering it, but when she grabbed the pen, the words seemed to write themselves.

_Dear Santa,_

_ Please bring John, Chuck and Sarah home safe tonight._

_ Ellie_

_

* * *

_

...On Christmas Day in the Morning.

* * *

The sun was just lightening the sky when the plane finally landed. Casey disembarked first, barely having time to shake the pilot's hand and wish him a Merry Christmas before throwing his gear into the trunk of the Vic, parked just inside the private hangar.

Chuck and Sarah were moving decidedly _too slow_.

"A little speed, Bartowski?"

"Somebody woke up on the _grinchy_ side of the tree, huh?" Chuck asked, yawning and stretching.

Casey merely grunted.

"C'mon, Chuck, it's been a long mission," Sarah said softly, loading her things in the back before Chuck added his bag in on top.

Casey only gave Chuck and Sarah time to close the back doors before he sped out, bound and determined to get _home _before Ellie woke. Blissfully, traffic in L.A. on Christmas morning wasn't like any other day. The drive to Echo Park was direct and pretty swift, all things considered.

He had never been so happy in all his life to see the apartment complex, or his parking spot when he finally pulled in. Just as Chuck opened the back door, Casey hit the lock on the car, grabbing his gear out of the open trunk and leaving it so that Chuck and Sarah could retrieve their suitcases.

When Casey was almost to the entrance to the courtyard, Chuck called out to him.

"Hey, Casey?"

The Marine inhaled slowly, glancing back.

Wordlessly, Chuck tossed the spare key he had to Ellie's apartment.

Casey caught it easily, looking at the younger man curiously.

"In case she's not up yet," Chuck said simply with a shrug.

Casey nodded slowly. "Thanks."

Sarah smiled to herself as Chuck just nodded.

While he wanted to go directly to Ellie's, Casey stopped at his apartment first, leaving his suitcase by the front door and retrieving her present from his safe. It was small, wrapped in silver paper with snowflakes on it thanks to the kind woman at the store.

Of all the jobs he'd had at the Buy More, manning the wrapping table at Christmas had been one of the _worst _experiences of his adult life and if he ever wrapped another present, it would be entirely too soon.

Armed with her gift and his as well as the keys, he locked up his apartment before crossing to hers. He stood on her stoop for a moment. While he could hear the TV on in the background, he didn't hear her moving about, didn't hear her talking or anything. Plus, it was _insanely_ early.

Just in case, he cautiously tried the door, which was, thankfully, locked. He set about remedying that with the key from Chuck and silently let himself in.

Ellie was asleep on the couch, wrapped in the blanket, still dressed from the day before, with Downy snuggled close against her.

When the door opened and he stepped in, Downy lifted her head, spotting him.

Casey smiled a little. He noiselessly padded deeper into the apartment, setting his keys and both presents on the table, next to some note in Ellie's handwriting, along with a crumb-covered plate and a half-empty glass of milk.

He knelt in front of Ellie, who was breathing deeply, evenly. With a smile, he scratched at Downy's head, who then began to purr loudly.

"Not yet, Downy," Ellie murmured. "Sleepy time."

He grinned. "Ellie..."

"Shh," she murmured, her eyes never even fluttering.

"Ellie," he tried again, just a little louder.

"J..." Her eyes flew open. "John!"

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, watching as she struggled to get out from beneath the tangled blanket, trying to avoid upsetting Downy in the process.

As soon as she was free, she threw her arms around him, holding onto him tightly. "You made it."

"Yeah. And Chuck and Walker are home too, across the courtyard."

She closed her eyes, breathing his familiar cologne in deeply. "So, so, so glad," she whispered.

"Me, too," he promised.

She pulled back very reluctantly.

"I found your present."

She smiled bashfully. "Did you like it?"

"Haven't opened it yet," he said, gesturing toward where it sat on the table.

"You were supposed to. It might've come in handy."

"It wasn't a time machine, was it? Or a transporter? Because I could've used those things to come home a lot faster."

She smiled. "No, no, nothing like that."

Casey eased off the floor, lifting Downy and setting the cat in his lap as he sat beside Ellie. "So, we should open them now?"

"Well, it _is_ Christmas morning... and Santa certainly came through with my wish list."

"Santa?"

Bashfully, she snagged the letter from the coffee table, offering it to him.

He wondered, for a moment, about that unexplained red light he saw only once. When he'd looked back again, it had been gone. "So he did..." Clearing his throat, he handed her the present he'd bought for her, as well as taking his package again.

"Are we opening at the same time, here, or what?" she asked. "Because I'm not sure I can wait..."

Casey laughed.

It was a warm, resonant sound she had _missed_.

"Go for it, Ellie."

Ellie excitedly tore off the wrapping paper, which Downy immediately pounced on before she'd even had a chance to put it down. The flocked box within was unmistakable-it was something _jewelry_-related. She glanced up at Casey, whose blue eyes were watching her intently, as she opened it, revealing a gorgeous round-shaped locket with her initials engraved on the front. "John," she breathed.

"On the inside, there's a picture of Downy for the moment. You can put in whoever you'd like."

She laughed a little, tears stinging her eyes as she opened it, seeing their cat looking up at her from within.

"And there's..." He cleared his throat. "There's more on the back."

Engraved on the back were three additional words, ones that made the tears spring from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. _Love you. John_

He _wasn't_ John to anyone else. He was Casey to the entire rest of the world. He was dad to Alex. But to her, forever to her, he was John.

She hugged him again, tightly. "It's perfect, John, thank you."

"I mean what it says. On the back. I love you, Ellie."

It was the first time he'd ever _said _those words out loud. To her. "I love you, too, John," she whispered, pulling back. She dried her eyes. "You should... you should open yours."

He balled up the paper as he removed it. Downy, who was on the floor batting at the silver snowflake paper, soon had more to play with as he tossed it to her, letting it roll across the carpet to her.

The weight he'd examined all night long on the plane proved to be that of a perfectly balanced knife. The craftsmanship was unparalleled. It was incredible and it, too, was engraved. There weren't names, just in case, but a meaningful message: _For 'What If' Moments..._

She bit her lower lip, just like he'd known she would, worriedly waiting for him to say something, _anything_, about it.

He took a moment to take that expression of hers in, to commit it to memory. "This is exactly what I need, to make sure that I will always be able to come home to _you_."

Her smile brightened. "Merry Christmas, John. Merry _first_ Christmas."

"Merry first Christmas to you, too, Ellie."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	40. Year in Review

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. This was not the original Chapter 40... but it's the new Chapter 40, for those of you who may have been keeping score on LiveJournal.

Dedicated to my dear friend Cindy Ryan, who has had an up and down 2010. Wishing you light and happiness and hope for 2011, Cindy. You deserve it. Much love from Tennessee.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey makes it home for Christmas after all. Ellie's gift to Casey is a knife, for what-if moments, so he'll always come home to her. And he finally confesses aloud, in something permanent, that he loves Ellie.

* * *

Year in Review

* * *

She eased out into the cold night air. Even California could be downright frigid in late December. It was sort of that odd downtime, between Christmas and New Year's, when stores left the Santas and trees up, hoping to lure in a few more customers and sell a few more unnecessary items. It was a holiday that desperately clung to the calendar, killing those final days in the year.

She guessed she should be thinking of resolutions. If not resolutions, at least some kind of new plan for her moderately insane life. It was hard to do at the moment, however. She was in an odd holding pattern as she waited for her divorce to be finalized. It was like she was stuck in limbo, in purgatory.

While there were things about Devon she missed and she guessed, somewhere, somehow, parts of her would always wish him well and hope that he was happy, safe, and "awesomely" healthy, she couldn't' dwell on the alternate realities that liked to creep into her mind when she wasn't paying attention. After all, Casey had already warned her about the dreaded what-ifs.

She fingered the locket at her neck. She hadn't changed the photo within yet. It was silly-Chuck had already lovingly harassed her for carrying the picture of Downy but the calico _was_ like her child. Plus, she didn't actually have a photo of Casey. The Marine managed to stealthily avoid cameras all night at Halloween, and he even dodged the family candids at Thanksgiving and Christmas. The picture she had for his caller-ID on her phone was blurry, and he was wearing that infernal green polo. It wasn't exactly the kind of shot she wanted protected and encased in the gold token of his love and affection.

His love...

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Even when he wasn't there physically, wrapping her up in his arms, it certainly _felt_ like he was there, providing warmth and comfort, protection from the night's chill.

When she opened her eyes again, she realized maybe she didn't need a plan. She just needed to go with it. After all, it had brought her this far. It had brought them together.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned, seeing a familiar calico face peering out at her through the window. Well, not having a plan _and_ adopting a cat.

* * *

Casey sat in the dimly lit Castle, working on his end of year reports. It had seemed to take forever and no time at all, the year 2010. The perils of getting older, he guessed. The year had been tremendous for him, beyond his expectations and more outrageous than even his wildest dreams.

John Casey, consummate bachelor, the ultimate lone wolf... wasn't exactly either of those things anymore. He had a daughter. Sharp, smart. Alex was the spitting image of her mother at that age but she had a unique personality, a sense of humor that was all her own. While he couldn't imagine welcoming a long-thought deceased father into his life, she'd managed to do so with a grace and poise that... well, it reminded him of Ellie.

Ellie, who welcomed her own father in after years of his self-imposed separation. Ellie, who mourned Stephen's death in such a painful way.

He ran a hand over his face. It had hurt him, seeing her suffer like that, in ways he never knew possible. He'd always been so careful, to try to keep his emotions restrained, stored in boxes and buried deep in the dark recesses of his inky soul.

It wasn't working anymore. The locks had been destroyed, the lids lost to time. The feelings he'd long tried to restrain ran free. He was a different man now. He liked to think he was a better man, because of Ellie, because of Alex, because of Downy. He felt more whole because of them.

It may not have been the best path, the path of least resistance. He may not have always made the right decisions-hindsight was _always _20/20. But none of that mattered. What he cared about now was his family-his daughter, his cat... and the woman he adored. His life, usually a murky place was filled, for the first time, with light and happiness and hope.

And now, he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	41. Auld Lang Syne

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Best wishes to all of you for a happy, wonderful, _awesome_ 2011! ~K

Here's a few things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey and Ellie reflect independently on their 2010 in the waning days of the year.

* * *

Old Lang Syne

* * *

There wasn't a lot of fuss that night. There usually never was for him. Under normal circumstances, his New Year's Eve would be spent finishing up the year-end reports for Beckman. And he rarely stayed up to midnight. He had things to do. Terrorists to catch. A nation to protect.

He normally spent the night at home, alone.

While he was in the apartment complex, he wasn't at his place. He sat on the end of Ellie's couch, his socked feet propped upon the coffee table. She was curled up beside him, leaning against him. Downy sat on his lap, purring contentedly.

Earlier in the day, after he'd finished all his reports and shipped them off to D.C., they'd celebrated the end of 2010 with dinner. Chuck, Sarah, Morgan and Alex had been there. Once the leftovers had been stored and the dishes washed and put away, the younger couples headed out to some party, to ring in the new year with a boogie or two. Casey had offered to take Ellie, too, but she'd had a better idea, one that began and ended on the couch.

They watched the ball drop in New York before finding a Bogart movie marathon. They'd come in at the end of Casablanca, their favorite movie, before moving into the Big Sleep.

And the big sleep was exactly what Casey wound up doing. He dozed off, in the warm, comfortable company of Ellie and Downy. He was content, maybe for the first time in his adult life. He had a job he loved, a woman he cherished and a family who, in their own peculiar way, understood him. Off and on, he'd been blessed to have one or two of those at a time, but he'd never had all three at the same time. Not until the best year ever.

Even his best year hadn't been without its pitfalls, however. Ellie's life had been turned upside down more than once. And he'd been the cause of it, somewhat. The loss of Stephen hadn't been something he could've prevented, but the situation with Devon had been partially his doing. But all of that didn't matter. It was all water under the bridge. It was in the past, because Ellie was his future.

Ellie listened as his breathing evened out, as he drifted off to dreamland. This time last year, she never would've imagined she'd be doing this now, laying against _him_. This time last year, she couldn't have even fathomed the way her life could and would change over the course of a mere twelve months.

As painful as some of the moments were, as different as things had become, she wouldn't have traded it for the world. Her life, while a wild ride, wasn't awful. It wasn't perfect, but it was _nice_.

It was hard not to compare what her New Year's might've been like had her life _not_ changed. She might've been drug out with Chuck and the others at Devon's insistence. Or, worse, at some fraternity alumni event where she felt out of place. She was a homebody, first and foremost. The occasional night out was grand, but she liked the cave-like feel of recharging her batteries away from other people, something she'd never been able to get across to her now ex-husband. She was around hundreds of people a day at the hospital, each who needed her. There was something so nice about going home at the end of the day, settling in with a delicious dinner and really relaxing.

She'd always wanted someone she could rely on, someone who could take care of her and who she would take care of in return. She wanted an equal partnership. She wanted someone who listened to her, someone who cared about her.

She never would've thought she'd have found all of that, everything she was looking for, in _him_. In _John Casey_ of all people. She'd always liked him. He'd always been respectful to her, unlike anyone else Chuck befriended. In fact, he'd been so unlike any of Chuck's friends that she should've known long ago that he wasn't just some electronics salesman.

Maybe she hadn't looked closely because she'd been too afraid of what might happen. That she might get attached to him, that she might be _attracted_ to him, that it was possible for her to even _fall_ for him.

She closed her eyes as she snuggled closer against him. Maybe it was fate all along, and she'd ignored it. But she wouldn't, not now, not again, not _ever_.

Downy glanced up at her _purring_ owners. Casey's chin rested against Ellie's soft hair. Ellie's limbs seemed tangled with his. As the calico slowly got up and stretched, she ambled off of Casey's lap, climbing onto the arm of the couch. Her padded paws traveled across the remote control. As the flat-screen TV showed the crisp white The End credit, she hit the power button, bathing the room in relative darkness. Only the pure-white twinkling lights from the Christmas tree remained the new year finally arrived California.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	42. Stupid Cupid

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

An additional note: I apologize for my absence(s). Been a crazy two months, hoping to get things back on track. For anyone also waiting on the Jellie Epic, hope to get back on posting-schedule this week. Many thanks for your patience. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey and Ellie spend a quiet New Year's Eve at home, sleeping their way into 2011.

* * *

Stupid Cupid

* * *

She'd started the morning with hope. Much like Christmas, he'd told her he'd try to make it home in time. She knew how he loved her, how he would hate to disappoint her. So, she imagined something would happen. He'd have taken care of it. He'd have planned some kind of contingency, if he couldn't make it in person.

The flurry of delivery activity in the Westside Medical Center was insane. Balloons. Flowers. Stuffed animals. Chocolates. Some of the nurses had even bought the elementary school boxes of valentine cards and were spreading them around. Her lab coat pocket was overflowing with cartoon characters and super heroes.

But for each corny, cheesy message she received, the more she wanted something meaningful from _him_. Him who wasn't there. Him who was off saving the world. Him who was probably being shot at right at that very moment. She closed her eyes tightly at that idea.

She numbly wandered into the doctor's lounge, mumbling a mantra to herself. "No what-if's, no what-ifs, no what-ifs." It wasn't a what if, though, really. It was the plot to some crazy Michael Bay movie. Explosions. Gunfire. Screaming. Smoke. Flames. Pain.

"Get a _grip_, Eleanor," she chided as she sat down. "It's not really like _that_."

* * *

Casey wasn't exactly sure what day it was. The whole mission had been a disaster from wheel's up. Engine trouble had forced them to land at an airport that hadn't gotten the international security memo. The three of them wound up having to wait on Beckman and the nearby embassy to get them squared away and back on target. After all, their luggage was... explosive.

By the time they reached their destination, they had to play catch up, fast and loose with the mission prep. It had been down and dirty and shoddy-not the kind of thing any of them wanted to write to Beckman about.

Because of that, he'd wound up separated from Chuck and Sarah. Separated and _taken_. The Volkoff associate, a rude, despicable relic from the Cold War, delighted in torturing the Marine.

By the time Chuck's Intersect brain had finally figured out where Casey was being held, the big guy was in bad shape.

Sarah had struggled under Casey's nearly dead weight as Chuck kung-fu'ed their way to safety.

A drive across town ended at a nondescript house, in a bland-looking neighborhood. The CIA often had doctors and various specialty medical personnel in locations across the globe. And Casey was in desperate need of medical attention.

After pounding on the door, Sarah's blue eyes grew large when she recognized the person who had answered her knock. "Awesome?" she squeaked.

Devon was just as shocked. "Hey, Sarah!" He looked past her, expecting to see the other two musketeers. His grin disappeared when he saw how badly beaten and bloody Casey was, and how Chuck was having a hard time keeping the older man upright. "Bring him in," he said, turning into the serious Dr. Woodcomb.

Chuck and Sarah helped get Casey inside, laying him down on a cot in a room just off the entry.

"What happened?" Devon asked, scrubbing up.

"Not really sure," Chuck admitted.

Devon looked at Sarah. "Can you assist?"

The blonde bobbed her head.

"Chuck, bro... You have the hardest job," Devon said quietly.

"What's that?" Chuck asked, still in mild shock from everything.

"Call your sister."

* * *

Ellie had learned that, when her cell phone showed the call was from _restricted_, it usually meant they were coming from secured CIA/NSA satellite phones. Casey had called her once or twice before from them. She was practically giddy as she answered. He'd remembered! He'd thought of her on Valentine's Day after all! "John?" she answered excitedly.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Actually, sis, it's just me."

She tried, desperately, not to sound disappointed. "Hey, Chuck! Are you okay? You guys on your way home yet?"

"Not... Not exactly. To either question."

She numbly sat down. "What's wrong, Chuck?"

"He's being looked at right now. He's... y'know, he's a big guy, been through a hell of a lot before and been just fine."

She swallowed hard. "How bad is it?"

"Well, he has some power, y'know. Walking with assistance. The... the blood loss seems a little... a little extensive. I'm sure it looks a lot worse than it is, right? Head wounds tend to bleed a lot... right?"

She closed her eyes, that evil movie replaying in her head again. Only now, instead of dodging those bullets, he was _hit_ with them. "How bad?" she asked again quietly.

"As soon as I know more, sis, I'll call you back. But he's... He is in good hands."

"A..." She paused. "One of your doctors? Not some local voodoo guy or... or some kind of homeopathic whatever?"

Chuck's smile was evident in his voice as he spoke. "Casey wouldn't let us live that down, if we took him to some kind of hippie doctor. No, this guy... This guy who's looking at him is awesome..."

"Chuck, I know... I know you can't tell me where you are or... or anything, but please keep me informed. On everything."

"I will," he promised. "I'm so sorry I didn't have better news, that I had to call at all."

"I know," she said quietly.

* * *

Hours later, Devon and Sarah emerged from Casey's room. Chuck, who had been pacing, stilled.

"Casey's going to be fine," Devon began. "He's dehydrated, lost some blood, broke and cracked some bones... It's nothing too serious, nothing some rest won't help cure. But, it hurts like hell, that's for sure."

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Devon. I can't imagine that was easy for you..."

"I took an oath. I'm doing my job. Besides, there's... There's no ill will, Chuck, really. There never was."

Chuck nodded.

"How..." Devon cleared his throat. "How is Ellie?"

"She's good. Y'know. Good spirits, in good health... I think she's pretty freaked out at the moment, but she'll be fine."

"Listen, he's a little loopy at the moment, but he could probably make a phone call, a short one," said Devon. "Today is a pretty special day after all."

"Today? What is today?" Chuck asked, confused. Time had become something of an anomaly on that mission.

Sarah checked her watch then inhaled slowly. "Chuck?"

He looked at her.

"It's Valentine's Day."

* * *

Ellie wound up working late. She'd rather stay busy to distract herself than sit at home. With Downy, who could only offer so much assistance. And worry. She slowed only for a moment when she heard her phone ring.

It was that restricted number again.

She quickly rushed into a quiet room. "Chuck?" she asked, hopeful for news on Casey.

There was an amused, if weak, grunt. "Not quite."

"John!"

"I'm sorry if Chuck scared you. I'd rather he didn't."

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" she asked, the questions tumbling out of her mouth so quickly.

"Like I got run over by an Abrams tank. Twice. I'm fine, though, Ellie. I'm..." He paused. "I'm going to be laid up here for a few more days. But when I get home, we'll have Valentine's Day. It'll just be a little late."

"As long as you're okay, John, that's all that matters to me now."

"It matters to me. Missing holidays and events with you. So..." He cleared his throat. "So, you should be getting a delivery soon."

"What?"

"Alex is bringing you dinner for me. Nothing spectacular. But, something for now, to hold you over until I get home."

"Your voice is all I need, John. I can wait."

"I love you, Ellie."

"I love you, too," she whispered.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	43. Belated, Beloved

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: It's Valentine's Day, and Casey spends it with... Devon? When hurt on a mission, Casey and Ellie must spend the holiday apart.

* * *

Belated, Beloved

* * *

Ellie had gone to the mall with Sarah and Alex. A fun girl's only outing seemed like the best thing to do on a random Tuesday afternoon. Alex didn't have class. Ellie wasn't scheduled at the hospital or even on call. And Sarah was without a mission of vital importance to national security.

So, they tried on dresses and shoes, smelled every fragrance known to man at the perfume counter, and splurged on ice cream at the food court. Alex bought new sunglasses and a few foreign language books. Sarah came home with knife sharpener and Ellie, a whole bag full of new kitchen gadgets.

All in all, it was a restful, wonderful afternoon. When they returned to the Echo Park apartment complex, Ellie invited them both over to try out the new juicer, but both politely refused, going to Sarah's instead.

With a shrug, Ellie let herself into her apartment. Or, at least, she started to. She stopped dead in the open doorway, convinced she had to have opened the door to someone else's apartment. Or maybe the door to Narnia, or something.

There were candles everywhere. And something that smelled remarkable and mouthwatering. Soft, sultry strains of Etta James and Ella Fitzgerald rotated on the stereo.

Chuck, dressed in a white oxford, sharp red vest, black slacks and shined loafers, greeted her. "_Mademoiselle_! Welcome, welcome... May I take your purchases?" he asked, in an odd French accent.

"Chuck, what _is_ this...?" she asked, astonished.

"Moi? C'est _Charles_, of course," he said, easing the shopping bag and purse from her hands. "I'm afraid, uh..." He wrinkled his nose. "Your outfit. It is not quite appropriate for our, how you say, dress code. Please," he said, gesturing toward the stairs.

"Uh... okay..." Ellie ascended the stairs, still processing everything. Her bedroom door had a printed sign on it that read: _ici_. She laughed a little, halfway expecting to find Casey inside. Instead, it was empty, save for Downy, who lounged on the windowsill overlooking the courtyard. Hanging from the back of the closet door, however, was a gorgeous cobalt cocktail dress-one she had tried on during her trip to the mall with Sarah and Alex. "I am surrounded by _sneaky_ people," she admitted.

After changing into the dress, she slipped on a pair of tall heels before checking her hair and touching up her makeup.

As she descended the stairs, Chuck lingered at the bottom. "_Tr__è__s belle, mademoiselle._" He kissed at his fingertips, letting them explode. "_Magnifique_."

"Charles," she said, smiling at her dear little brother. "What is all this?"

Chuck offered her his arm, which she accepted. "A five-star French restaurant. In your living room. A very lucky woman you are."

Her breath caught in her throat and she squeezed his arm when she saw a certain someone emerge from the shadows in a black tuxedo.

Casey stepped forward, toward them. "I'll take it from here, _Charles_," he said, never taking his eyes from Ellie.

Chuck offered Ellie to Casey before taking a step back.

"That'll be all, _gar__ç__on_."

Chuck offered a bow before he let himself out into the courtyard.

Ellie smiled as he left, looking up at the handsome man in front of her. "John... this... What's all this for?"

"Seems I missed a holiday."

"I told you, you didn't have to," she said softly.

Casey pulled her closer. "I wanted to."

* * *

"How's it going?" Alex asked. She, Sarah, Morgan, and Chuck, still in his waiter uniform, were all crowded around a laptop screen.

"This takes a certain amount of skill, okay? And I've played Grand Theft Auto the most, so... relax and breathe," Morgan said as he drove the tiny remote-controlled car with the camera on top of it through Ellie's kitchen and toward the living room.

"She looked _so_ good in that dress," gushed Alex.

"Crazy expensive dress," Morgan commented. "How can you ladies _spend_ so much on clothing?"

"Why do you care?" asked Sarah. "Casey gave you the money to buy it, didn't he?"

"I'm just offended on his conservative behalf," Morgan said simply. "All right, here we go," he said as he was able to frame Casey and Ellie in the shot.

They were dancing, swaying to the music. Granted, none of them could hear. They only had visuals.

Chuck's grin softened. "She looks so happy."

Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. "They both do."

Alex said, in awe: "It's like watching a romantic movie..."

Just as Casey started to lean in to kiss Ellie, the camera suddenly shook violently.

"What? What's going on?" Chuck asked.

"Unknown," Morgan said, struggling to regain control of the car.

Chuck nervously chuckled. "You don't think that Casey saw it, do you?"

"They were pretty oblivious," Sarah commented.

Right before the feed went completely dead, Alex asked: "Wait, is that... is that a _paw_?"

As static filled the screen, they all realized what had happened at the same time. "Downy!"

* * *

Stay tuned...


	44. Lucky

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Additionally, many thanks to revdorothyl for the spark, without which we wouldn't have a St. Patrick's Day entry. (Being of good Irish stock myself, it was going to bug me, being unable to have one. Thank goodness for revdorothyl's comment on livejournal!) ~K

Here are a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey finally makes up missing Valentine's Day with Ellie. And Downy protects their privacy from inquiring minds.

* * *

Lucky

* * *

Casey grimaced when he strolled into the Buy More. It wasn't the nicest smell... but it wasn't the worst he'd ever experienced, either. The music, he noted, wasn't the same canned, elevator crap as normal, but something festive, something _jig-worthy_.

When he saw Morgan, he realized what day it _had_ to be.

The short, bearded manager wasn't in his usual suit but one of moss green. His real beard was covered, poorly, by an orange-red fake one. On his head was an oversized top hat; on his feet, floppy fake boots with gigantic gold buckles.

Casey grunted when he saw that Morgan's name tag had been swapped with one that proclaimed him to be: "Lucky."

Morgan, in his best fake accent, which was downright atrocious, cheered when he saw the Marine. "Top of the mornin' to ye, Johnny boy!"

Casey said nothing in return as he headed toward the large appliances. The closer he got, the more that _smell_ invaded his nostrils.

He realized he should've known when his eyes landed on Jeff and Lester over a couple hotplates with large stockpots.

"I _told_ you," hissed Lester, "that _blarney_ is not a real ingredient in stewed cabbage."

"Blarney is in everything Irish," Jeff said, blinking.

"Well..." Lester huffed. "Okay, fine! But you can't take _bologna_, write over the wrong letters with a Sharpie and call it blarney!"

Jeff inhaled deeply. "I think it's better now. With the _secret ingredient_."

"It's not a secret ingredient when you have the package sitting here!" Lester lifted the offending lunch meat.

"See! Look there," Jeff said, pointing at the packaging. "It says _blarney_," he said in a stage-whisper.

Casey wondered if Jeff had been smoking _craic_.

Lester took a calming, if shallow, breath: "Let's move onto the corned beef, okay?"

Jeff delighted in pulling out a disgusting mess of slop from one of the refrigerators.

"What _is _that?" Lester shrieked.

Jeff showed his best friend the glop he had created, from creamed corn and ground beef. "It's the corned beef."

Casey rubbed at the growing pain at his right temple. It was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

Casey smiled when he opened the door to Ellie's apartment later that day. He was attacked, in a good way, with the smell of something absolutely delicious for dinner.

Before he could even take the first step inside, however, he was met with a small, furry, purring creature. Downy rubbed against his ankle and he was helpless but to pet the calico.

"Nice to see you, too."

She mewed happily.

Fully entering and closing the door, he heard Ellie call out from the kitchen as he lowered his backpack onto the floor.

"Hope you brought your appetite. I thought we were going to have a houseful but, apparently, the pull of that nasty green beer at that Irish pub not far from here is too strong. What's that pub called? Mc-something?"

"Mc_Donald's_?" he asked with a grin.

Ellie just laughed.

"So, we lost all our dinner guests," Casey said. While it wasn't Sunday, he knew that Chuck and Sarah were supposed to be there, and Alex and Morgan.

Ellie emerged from the kitchen with a tray of the most succulent-looking lamb chops, surrounded by roasted carrots and onions. She set it onto the table, beside the steaming bowl of homemade mashed potatoes and the salad crafted with an assortment of greens.

That was his Ellie. Thoughtful, creative, and culinarily ready to celebrate _any_ holiday.

She smiled. "Just you and me," she said softly. "Well... And Downy."

They both turned to see the cat lounging in the windowsill overlooking the courtyard. It was her favorite spot in the entire living room. When Casey looked back at Ellie, she smiled at him.

Before she could move back into the kitchen for something else, Casey caught her hand lightly before pulling her close. She eased into his arms, closing her eyes as he dropped a kiss on her hair.

"I'm so lucky," he said softly, "with you in my life."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	45. Psychic Ballet

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: St. Patrick's Day arrives in Burbank. Casey regrets having to wear the Buy More green, but he realizes just how lucky he is after work.

* * *

The Psychic Ballet

* * *

Alex sat in the living room, watching her father and Ellie in the kitchen. They had such an easy rapport, an unspoken kind of language. And all they were doing was washing dishes. They seemed to know instinctively what the other needed, whether it was more soap, more water, a scrubbing brush, a towel, or to move out of the way. They just _knew_.

"How do they _do_ that?" she asked, astonished.

Morgan followed her gaze to the kitchen. "I dunno. Years of practice?"

"Years?" she asked, glancing at Morgan.

"Sure. Since Casey moved here, he and Ellie have always had a... _whatever_... with cleaning up. Maybe that's why they bonded so well over laundry, come to think of it..."

"Seriously, though, Morgan, watch... it's like... before she even thinks or realizes that she needs the towel, he's giving it to her. And before he moves to put something away, she's opening the proper door."

"Well, yeah. It's her kitchen."

"You don't see it at all, do you?" She tried not to sound disappointed.

"See what?" Morgan asked, thoroughly confused.

"It's like... it's like a psychic ballet. They are _so_ in-tune with each other."

"Psychic ballet?" Morgan mouthed, trying to wrap his brain around it.

"Gosh, they are _so_ sweet with each other... that's the kind of relationship I want."

Morgan's ears perked up. "That's... isn't that the kind of relationship we have?"

"We aren't quite there yet, Morgan."

Of all the people he expected to have to live up to, he never once figured he'd have to deal with Marine-style standards, and certainly _not_ when it came to romance. Chuck, sure. He and his best bud traded hints and tips all the time now, but _Casey_?

The calico cat jumped into Morgan's lap. "It's all your fault, isn't it, furball?" he asked _very_ quietly.

Downy clawed extra hard as she tried to find a comfortable spot.

Morgan desperately tried to keep from calling out in pain.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked, looking over at him in concern.

"Oh, I'm... I'm fine," Morgan fibbed through clenched teeth.

* * *

Chuck watched, both amused and concerned, as Morgan silently tailed Casey through the Buy More. Clearly, Morgan believed himself to be _the_ spy but Chuck knew well that Casey was very aware of every quiet step in his shadow. Rather than waiting for the hunter to become the hunted, Chuck reached out and pulled Morgan from his stalking.

"Buddy...?"

"Not now, Chuck!"

"What are you doing? Besides angering the giant?"

"Angering the..." Morgan looked genuinely confused. "What are _you_ talking about, man? I was _awesome_! I put my 'leet rogue skills to maximum use. I can be a spy, too, y'know."

Perhaps in the bearded one's dreams, but Chuck didn't say that out loud. "Seriously. Why are you watching him that closely?"

Morgan couldn't believe he was confessing his conversation from earlier in the day. "Alex said I should be more like _him_. And I can't..." He drifted off, shaking his head. "Like _him_? He's romantic and he and Ellie have this unspoken _psychic ballet _thing..."

Chuck's eyes grew large. "Psychic _ballet_?" he repeated.

"You _know_," whined Morgan. "That creepy way that they do what they do. That in-sync thing." He sighed. "I just wanna know, man, how did emotionally-repressed_ John Casey _become the Prince Charming that the rest of us are supposed to live up to? 'Cause that's..." He shook his head, sighing.

"Well, just goes to show that it must be a genetic thing, that girls are predisposed to wanting men like their fathers... even when they don't know their dads until they're twenty, I guess."

"Yeah, well, here's the thing. I knew Stephen J. Bartowski. Casey is _nothing _like your dad. Really, y'know, Awesome was more like your father. Kind of bumbling..."

Chuck couldn't believe he was backing Casey, but he was. "Dad left us to protect us. And there's no one better at protecting, well, the _world_, than the big guy."

"How am I supposed to live up to _Adonis_ over there, though?" Morgan asked, looking over at Casey as he hefted a heavy crate over his head like it was nothing.

"You aren't. What Alex maybe hasn't realized yet is that she's probably attracted to you because you embody one of Casey's greatest assets."

Morgan puffed up. "I have been working out. Check out the gun show!" he said, flexing. "Kind of you to notice, really, Chuck."

"No, no, buddy," Chuck said, fighting a chuckle. "Casey has undying loyalty to his country. You have undying loyalty to your friends, to your family."

Morgan was quiet for a moment, letting that thought settle. "You kinda have a point there."

"Of _course_ I do."

"Now I just have to work on the psychic ballet stuff..."

"Lace those toe-shoes tightly," joked Chuck.

"_Ballet_, Grimes?" Casey asked. "Seems you forgot your _tutu _today."

Chuck and Morgan both jumped, neither having realized just how long the Marine had been listening to them, or how close he'd gotten to them.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	46. Anniversary

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. This one is unbeta'ed... Kinda ran out of time. Apologies!

Additionally, this is officially one of the longest stories, both time-wise and chapter-wise I have ever written. And I cannot believe it began a year ago as an adopted plot bunny from my dear friend Cindy Ryan. We've come a long way, baby!

I never cease to be amazed by the response to this story. Your enthusiasm for it, even nearly 50 chapters in, is incredible and humbling. I cannot thank you all enough. Happy anniversary to all of you, to those who have been with me from the start, and to those who've been picked up along the way. With love and a grateful heart, ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Alex dreams of a relationship like her father has with Ellie. Morgan tries to learn some pointers by shadowing the Colonel.

* * *

Anniversary

* * *

She straightened the cake plate on the table, nervous for reasons she couldn't discern. Streamers had been stretched all across the ceiling and over doorways. Some had even been woven into a runner for the coffee table, with the ends tied into knots for the day's celebrant. As expected, birthday cat Downy was intrigued by the rose and cream-colored crepe, batting at each of them in turn.

Casey, sensing Ellie's apprehension, tried to reassure her. "Everything looks great."

She wanted to believe him, but she still felt that there was something off, something amiss.

"What is it?" he pressed.

She shrugged. "It's like I'm forgetting something."

He wasn't sure how. The lunch buffet looked amazing, from the tiny tuna sandwiches to Ellie's famous seven layer dip. There was enough food waiting to feed an army. Convinced it was just her normal Bartowski jitters, he reached out, catching her arm and pulling her away from her spread. "I can't imagine you've forgotten anything. Ellie. It's perfect."

She smiled up at him a little.

When the doorbell rang, Downy scampered out from beneath her new "toy" table to see who had come to visit.

Casey smirked. "It's like she knows the party is for her."

"She always has been a smart cat," Ellie said, opening the front door. Instead of seeing who was on the other side, all she could see was a gigantic scratching post covered in gray carpeting. "Oh, my goodness!"

"Think she'll like it?" Chuck asked, peeking out from behind the post. "I mean, c'mon. It's not every day your cat-niece turns one. Y'know. Only the best for Downy."

Casey took the post, which clearly Chuck had issues in carrying for its awkward size and weight.

"Thanks, buddy," he said before welcoming the hug from his sister.

"I'm certain that she'll love it," Ellie assured him before embracing Sarah, too.

As soon as Casey set it down in the corner of the living room, Downy went to check it out.

"Lookie there!" Chuck said, pleased.

"Nice job, Walker," Casey said approvingly.

"I..." Chuck couldn't say that he'd selected it, because he hadn't. "I helped pick the color..."

Casey and Sarah shared a smirk as Morgan and Alex entered, too.

"So glad you could join us, too," Ellie said, giving Alex a hug before accepting the gift thrust at her from Morgan. It was wrapped rather poorly in a paper bag from the Pets R Us store at the mall.

"Wouldn't have missed it," Alex promised.

Lunch was a fun affair, with plenty of tasty treats for both the humans and for Downy. While the human cake was a delicious marbled layer cake, the one for the birthday girl was molded from wet cat food, topped with Downy's favorite treats.

After eating, Casey sat on a chair, and Ellie lingered on the arm of it, while the others piled onto the couch. Downy delighted in making rounds through the living room, visiting all of her guests.

Morgan cleared his throat, nodding at the brown paper package on the coffee table. "Aren't you gonna, y'know, open presents?"

Downy seemed less interested in the gift and far more interested in the attention that Alex was giving her. The cat purred loudly, enjoying the light scratches on her chin.

"Go for it," Casey said to Ellie quietly.

Morgan gleefully nudged it toward her.

As Ellie opened it, she wondered if Downy would ever really have a need or use for it, but it was certainly thoughtful on Morgan's part. She was rather proud of Casey, considering he didn't chortle as she pulled it from the wrapping.

"It's a cat Snuggie!" Morgan said excited. "And, it even comes in Buy More green! Like owner, like pet, 'ey, big guy?"

"I have never seen one of these for a cat," Casey said, looking at the... delightful... item.

Morgan grinned broadly. "I know, right?"

Ellie sat it on the coffee table. "Thank you, Morgan. Thanks everyone for-"

"I'm sorry, Ellie, but there is one other present."

The doctor turned to Alex. "You didn't have to..."

"Well, I didn't, not for Downy. It's more for the two of you," she said, looking from Ellie to her father.

Ellie glanced at Casey, but it was clear he was just as surprised.

Alex held out the flat package, wrapped in brightly colored polka dot paper. Inside was a scrapbook. The cover itself was black fabric with an embroidered set of paw prints across the front in a sandy color.

"Looks like my Crown Vic after a rainstorm, if Downy gets out," Casey commented, getting a laugh from the group.

Alex watched nervously as Ellie reverently turned the pages. They were filled with photographs taken from a very low angle. Some were of Downy by herself, others were of Downy watching the people around her, identifiable only by their shoes, from Chuck's familiar high tops to Sarah's black boots and Morgan's green sneakers. There were a few of Downy atop the washing machines in the laundry room, under the folding chairs, on the windowsill or in the shelf where she'd called home for months. Ellie laughed when she saw the photo of Downy in the laundry basket, looking ready to pounce.

Casey held Ellie closer, though, when they found the last page.

On a sepia-toned background, surrounded by what looked like a theater curtain was the photo from Morgan and Chucks' Grand Theft Auto Matchbox car camera from Ellie and Casey's belated Valentine celebration. The caption in Alex's careful script relayed the sentiment they all felt about each other.

"I may not have been on time, or at the right time, but my time begins and ends with you, my family. Those are the best times, the times I'm happiest and safest, when we're all together."

It was signed: "With love, Downy and Alex."

Ellie was moved to tears. Handing the book to Casey, she pulled Alex into a hug. "So glad that you're my family," Ellie whispered.

Alex squeezed the hug tighter. "Me, too, Ellie. Me, too."

When Ellie pulled back and saw Casey, when she felt his warm hand on her shoulder, she realized what it was she'd forgotten. Not only was it Downy's birthday, it was the anniversary of the tipping point, of what would make her life forever different. A year ago, on a rainy Sunday, _everything _had changed.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	47. Westside Story, Part 1

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

...my LJ folks may recognize these chapters... This lovely site was pestering me the first time I tried to post it... and the second time... Here's hoping the third time is the charm!

Also, with huge, belated birthday wishes to four ladies I love dearly: Cindy Ryan, basched, night_lotus_blossom, and dimonahtralon. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Ellie and Casey celebrate the birthday of Downy, and a year's worth of laundry becoming more.

* * *

Westside Story, Part I

* * *

The dim twilight had never scared her before. She'd walked through worse places by herself in much darker conditions. With the construction of the hospital's new cancer center under way, however, parking was at a premium, and her car was far beyond where she normally left it.

Ellie walked through and past the construction insanity, digging in her purse for her keys.

She never saw the hungry looks pass between the three men or hear their initial movements as they rustled the palms in the planters. Not until it was too late, not until she was surrounded.

Her mind raced. She could cancel her cell phone, but the photos... Memories kept alive with snapshots would still be in her mind, but she knew they would fade. She could get a new driver's license and replace her debit and credit cards.

She held her purse out to them. "There's about seventy-five in cash there, and other stuff... a smart phone..."

No one moved to take it.

Ellie swallowed hard. "I-I have a Toyota," she said. "A hybrid. I filled up the tank on my way to work this morning." She offered one the keys.

The punch caught her off guard. The man's right hand connected with the left side of her face solidly. She saw stars and began to careen backward. Another man grabbed her purse. The tug off her arm sent her forward, and her chin connected with the sharp concrete.

With her consciousness fading, she felt something snap lightly against her neck. "J'hn," she tried to say.

* * *

The change in Casey's face was drastic. He went from mildly annoyed at the latest Jeff and Lester antics to an expression that seemed out of place, that had to have been foreign. If Chuck had to guess, he'd have said it was dread fear mixed with unadulterated panic. All because of something as innocuous as a phone call.

The concern gripped his heart when the big man's blue gaze focused on _him_. He swallowed hard as Casey charged across the Buy More sales floor.

"We have to go."

"What? Why? What's going on?" Chuck asked.

Casey didn't bother to answer the questions, he just pulled the younger man along with him as they started to leave.

When Chuck realized they were heading for Casey's Crown Victoria, he started dragging his feet. While he was fairly certain they were long past the days of threatening to put him in a bunker in some undisclosed location, the look on Casey's face had troubled him, and the lack of _any_ communication at all was not exactly normal for the Colonel. "Just hang on, huh? Hold up... Where's the fire, chief?"

"Westside. Ellie's in the hospital."

Chuck offered a strained guffaw. "Uh, Casey, I hate to tell you this, but Ellie's _always_ in the hospital."

"Not as a patient." The unforgiving blue gaze held back the unspoken but clearly understood _moron_ that should've gone on the end of that statement.

"Ellie's..." Chuck felt his knees go weak. "Is she okay?"

Casey opened the driver's side door and slid in. "She better be," he said as Chuck scrambled to get into the passenger seat.

* * *

She was giving her statement a second time to yet another police officer when she saw them. The shock was clear on Chuck's face. The anguish, undeniable on Casey's.

Chuck squeezed past the officer. "Sis! What happened?"

"I'm okay, Chuck," she promised. "John..."

Casey was still taking in the dark mass under her left eye and the taped laceration on her chin. "Do you have any suspects?" he asked the officer.

"Been some gang activity in the area. Could be any number of local lowlifes."

Casey could hear the tone of annoyance and defeat in the officer's voice. "So, that's it? Chalk it up to an unsolvable crime?"

"Nobody I talk to is going to say anything about anybody. So, unless we get really lucky... we may never know. And you need to be prepared for that," the officer said, looking back at Ellie. "I don't want to get your hopes up."

Casey watched as she reached for her necklace. In the months since Christmas, he'd seen her reach for it more often than not. The fact that it was _missing_ set him off. In one quick movement, he took the notebook from the officer.

The local cop balked until he came face to face with the NSA seal on Casey's badge.

"John-" Ellie tried again.

"Everything will be okay, Ellie," Casey promised. He tore out the sheets from her interview with the officer before giving the notebook back.

Chuck squeezed his sister's hand lightly as Casey turned to go.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	48. Westside Story, Part 2

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie is mugged in the parking lot of the hospital. Casey is _not_ happy.

* * *

Westside Story, Part II

* * *

While he shouldn't, that didn't mean he _couldn't_. He pieced together a time line, from the incident until he was called, gathering all of the surveillance footage he could find from all surrounding areas-ATM, security, whatever.

The computers in Castle were working overtime when she arrived. Sarah saw a look in her partner's eyes she'd never seen before. She pitied whoever it was who had done it, who had attacked Ellie. "Pretty sure this might be an issue for Beckman."

Casey never looked up from what he was doing. "Pretty sure you don't have to be here right now."

"Chuck called. He and Ellie are worried about you."

Casey merely grunted.

"Don't you think this is a matter better suited for the LAPD?

"The guy taking Ellie's statement wouldn't be able to find his way out of a paper bag with a map and a flashlight. The only one who's going to find them, to get her things back, if they haven't already been sold, is me. And I don't have much time."

"What can I do?"

Casey glanced at her. "Call all the gold buying stores. They'll use her credit cards and ATM card first. Then the necklace will be sold for scrap."

"The locket?"

Casey didn't answer. "Start dialing, Walker."

* * *

Ellie paced in Chuck's living room. She'd insisted she could go home but her brother had decided that wasn't the greatest idea. After all,the men who had attacked her had her belongings, which included information that could lead to her apartment.

While Ellie had always been able to calm him down from a full-on Bartowski freak-out, he wasn't anywhere near so good at it in return.

"Casey's a professional. Don't worry about him."

"He's a Marine. I know. Tough as nails. Able to kill people with a bottle cap. Or... or a paperclip!"

"Casey may be an assassin, but I really... I really think that differentiates itself from, y'know... run-of-the-mill murder. He won't be killing anyone tonight. Not unless it's really, really called for."

Ellie paced faster.

"You're making me dizzy, sis."

"Did you see his face?" she asked quietly.

"He was definitely upset."

She scoffed. "Upset doesn't really cover it."

"He loves you, y'know, and... I think he'll never admit it, but I think it hurt. That he couldn't protect you when he protects the world on a daily basis. I think that's why he was so... was so..."

Ellie slowed. "Crazy things happen that you can't control all the time."

"I'm not sure that computes for him yet." He took a breath. "Seeing you like that... I don't think that helped with the computations... y'know?"

Ellie reached up, her fingers grazing the tape on her chin before exploring the tender skin under her eye. She'd intentionally avoided a mirror. She saw everyone else's blood on a nearly daily basis. She had no desire to see it on herself.

But, after seeing Casey's expression, she could only imagine how bad it was. Numbly, she lowered herself onto the couch. "He looked pretty ill," she whispered.

"Yeah."

She closed her eyes. "I just wish he would come home..."

"I'll text Sarah again." It bothered Chuck, that his girlfriend wasn't answering his calls or his texts, but he assumed if anything was beyond wrong, that he'd've been contacted by _someone_.

* * *

Sarah rode shotgun while Casey transported three pissed-off gang members in the back of his Crown Victoria. They were all safely sequestered in the prisoner containment unit. Sarah only occasionally glanced back. Blissfully, the unit was also soundproof. While she could easily read their lips, she preferred not to.

Casey was terse and to the point when he gave the evidence and the criminals over to the LAPD. In addition to finding Ellie's purse, empty wallet and keys, he found her necklace. Once all the evidence had been processed, everything was returned to Casey, who headed home with Sarah in tow.

"She's lucky to have you."

He didn't say anything. He hadn't said much to her since they started their investigation.

"Casey...?"

"In the same city and I couldn't _do _anything."

"You were able to get her things back for her. You found her muggers."

He grew mute again.

"As much as you want to, you can't be everywhere at once."

He idly wondered how research into cloning was progressing as he drove the rest of the way in silence.

Sarah let them into the apartment she shared with Chuck. The living room was filled with somber-looking people. Ellie, Alex, and Chuck were on the couch, with Downy in Ellie's lap. Morgan had clearly just come from the kitchen with a tray of lemonade.

"John..."

While Sarah carried Ellie's purse and other belongings, Casey wordlessly held out her necklace.

Ellie eased Downy to Alex as she got to her feet. Crossing to him, she threw her arms around him.

He held her tightly, lifting her up off the floor slightly, though he was ever mindful so as to avoid hurting her further. "I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispered, his voice haggard, rough.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Everything will be okay now, John."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	49. No

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Additionally... I'm sorry for the long absence. My computer has been deceased for a while... There's only so much I can take doing on my iPhone. But, thankfully I have commandeered the boy's computer this evening... so, here we go. Unbeta'ed chapter. ~KG

Spoilers-Chuck versus the Business Trip

Previously, on Chuck - Ellie gets mugged and Casey finds the culprits.

* * *

No

* * *

It wasn't what she expected, when he went to work for her brother. She imagined things would be better. There would be no more demanding, pressing matters of national security to pull him away in the middle of the night. Chuck was a better boss than Beckman in making sure her John was home for Sunday dinners, for holidays, for even the trivially important days in their lives... like laundry days.

She could barely believe her eyes, however, when she saw the men at the door. They seemed larger than life, like a small army. And she'd seen troops in the courtyard before.

Her heart fell to her toes when she heard who they were after. Her blood ran frigidly cold when she heard them say they were there for Casey. "No," she breathed, her voice catching in her throat.

Ever the honorable man, ever the soldier, Casey stood. He knew what he had done, even if the others didn't. Someday, they would understand that he had done what needed to be done in order to protect them-_all_ of them.

When he came to Echo Park all those years ago, he never imagined that he would find a family. A woman that he loved, a daughter that he cherished, a sister he would always cover, even a "brother-in-law" he hoped to one day bestow with the title officially, and, begrudgingly, a bearded friend. They were all his responsibility. He had sworn oaths all his life to defend his country and they were the chief inhabitants as far as he was concerned.

"What, you aren't going to resist?" sneered Decker.

Casey wouldn't dare give an inch. "No," he said simply.

Decker glanced at Chuck and Sarah. Both wore matching grim expressions as they got to their feet. Both seemed to hold the other back. It was a peculiar sight.

Ellie rose but swayed slightly, like even the faintest, weakest whisper of wind would knock her over. Alex watched, wide-eyed, as her father made deliberate steps toward the door. Morgan appeared the most frustrated. He wanted to help, but without the Intersect, he didn't know how.

What Decker hadn't factored into his visit were the sharp claws that suddenly dug into his leg. His initial reaction was fierce, calling out in pain and kicking. "Damned pest," he growled. The kick, however, didn't remove the embedded claws from his flesh.

"Downy," Casey said calmly. In response, the calico hissed. "Somebody's gotta stay with Ellie."

Downy retracted her claws, easing away from Decker. She backed slowly toward the dining table, moving to stand in front of Ellie and Alex. Her spine remained arched and her ears back.

Casey had never been prouder of his family before, which made his defeat so much harder to take. He nodded at Sarah before holding his hands out in surrender.

Ellie tightened her fingers around the back of her chair, into a ghostly white-knuckle grip as Casey was patted down and stripped of two handguns and a knife hidden on his person. Not that he needed them-she knew he was a force to be reckoned with his fists alone. When he was handcuffed, she stood straighter, taller. She released the chair with one hand, covering the heart-shaped locket at her neck.

Alex couldn't help it, she turned to Morgan as they pulled her father from the apartment.

Morgan held her closely, feeling her tremble all over. He looked past her at Chuck.

Chuck was in awe of his sister's ability to remain standing. He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him so he could only imagine her fears, her worries, her heartaches. She had always been his pillar of strength and reliability. She tried to be okay but when she spoke, he could easily hear the panic in her voice.

"This is wrong. This is all wrong. You can fix this, can't you, Chuck?"

Chuck wanted to answer definitively. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to erase the last ten minutes from their lives. He knew he had to be the leader, to be the CEO of his corporation. While he attempted to channel Casey's indomitable inner strength, only one word bounced in his head, invading his thoughts.

No.

He couldn't. He could - and he would - try, but as with everything else in the spy world, he couldn't promise her. He couldn't reassure her that everything would be fine. That was what he wanted to do _desperately_, but the last thing he wanted to do was make the situation worse. Ellie was, at heart, a realist with her feet planted firmly on solid ground. He wasn't about to lie to her, to fill her with false hopes. It would be a disservice to her and a dishonor to Casey.

"We won't leave a man behind," he told her. "Not if I can help it."

"Dad's not... Not a murderer..." Alex whimpered, pulling back from Morgan. She looked into his familiar eyes and murmured her nearly silent thanks.

Morgan squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Casey's never done anything in cold blood, never anything like that..." He looked again to Chuck and Sarah. "Right?" He hadn't know all of Casey's secrets but he was certain they did.

"Of course not," Sarah said definitively. "Casey's a patriot. There's no such thing as a 'former' Marine, and your father is _no_ exception. No matter what Decker says happened, the truth of the matter will _always_ be that Casey acts with honor."

Ellie numbly dropped into her chair. Nearly immediately, Downy joined her, hopping into her lap. Unconsciously, Ellie's hand descended into the cat's soft fur.

Chuck's heart broke for his sister. Becoming resolved, he stood taller. "Alex, until we clear this up, you're staying here, okay? Casey would want you protected and that's what we're going to do. There's a guest room, it's nice..."

Alex nodded.

"Morgan, let's go make sure Ellie's apartment is clear. And yours, with Casey, actually. Sarah..." Chuck looked at his wife.

"I'm on it," she said quietly.

Chuck nodded, guiding Morgan out.

Alex moved to pace in the hall, and Downy instinctively followed, walking with her.

Ellie stood, crossing her arms. "I want to help."

Sarah lowered her voice. "I'm not sure there's much you can do," she said honestly. "They have certain powers as the CIA..."

Ellie nodded. "But, you were CIA, so you would know..."

Sarah's expression softened. "I may have some strings left that I can pull, and I will work every angle for Casey. But, I'm not sure who will still talk to me since I've gone 'civilian.'"

"Sarah, John..." Ellie's voice cracked, breaking.

Sarah hugged her sister-in-law. "I know."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	50. Super Friends or the Justice League

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

One of two post-eps for Chuck versus the Hack Off

Additionally... so this is Chapter 50. Holy crap. I never, ever, in my wildest dreams, thought this story would be this long. This is now the longest thing I have ever written and posted. Thank you to all of my Super Friends... Love to you all. ~K

* * *

Super Friends... or the Justice League

* * *

When Chuck entered his sister's apartment, he was almost bowled over from the scent of baked goods. He nearly choked on the sugar that permeated the air. Glancing back into the sunlight of the courtyard, he took one last, deep breath before plunging in and heading directly to the kitchen.

Ellie surveyed her countertops (as did Downy from the kitchen's window sill). Every inch of workable space was covered with some type of cake. There were fruit cakes, layered cakes, and even tiny petit fours.

"Did you start a catering business without telling anyone?" he asked, smiling a little. He knew that it was difficult for Ellie, since Casey had been arrested. He had hoped she had remained at the cleaning stage. The cleaning stage was the first stage in the Ellie Bartowski freak-out. Once everything was disinfected and purified, to the point where her kitchen could double as a surgical suite at Westside, it was time to move onto stage two.

The one where Keebler Elves invaded and possessed her.

Ellie glanced up, her face dusted with a light sprinkling of flour across her chin. "So, which of these do you think will be easiest to slip past security?"

He blinked. "What? This isn't... this isn't one of your normal baked goods days?" Chuck knew that his sister would frequently donate excess pastries to charities, or drop them off at the hospital or for first-responders.

"No, this is... This is for John," she said, holding up a metal file. "If I send a tray of these bite-sized ones, then it could sit carefully between them... You could slide it out when it goes through the metal detector and then back in again once it's been cleared." She pointed at a fruit cake. "But, that one is so thick, so dense, it might be better. Fruit cakes are typically filled with all sorts of healthier options, so you could tell the guards that it's just... high in iron?"

Chuck shook his head. "You should leave the breaking-out to the professionals. Check this out," he said, pulling out his wallet. "It took some doing but this a miniaturized copy of the blueprints to county lock-up."

She watched as he pulled a tiny piece of paper from one of the card slots and hold it out to her. She shook her head, however. "I can't bake that into one of these... What if he takes a bite and accidentally _ingests_ half of the map? And then what happens?"

"That's not... That's not why I brought it by," he said. "I brought it by because, well..." He sighed. "Ellie, by taking this to him, you realize what it is I'm asking him to do, right? That he'll be escaping. From _jail_. That what he'll be doing is illegal."

"He's in jail on trumped up charges."

Chuck had no way to sugar-coat what he was about to say. Swallowing hard, he just jumped in and said it. "Sarah's contacts seem to indicate that he... he may have done what Decker says he did."

Downy let out a plaintive cry.

She closed her eyes, leaning against the counter, nearly toppling a three-layer red velvet cake onto a lemony Bundt.

"They would've stopped at nothing to get to us, all of us," he said, glancing at Downy, who lowered her head back atop her paws. "Casey was protecting us. That's all he's ever done, ever since he got here." He left out the part where Casey held a gun on him, mostly because Casey was protecting the United States in general, which included his sister. Plus, that was practically a _lifetime _ago.

"This just doesn't make sense, Chuck. None of it."

He reached out, squeezing her shoulder. "I know. Believe me, I know. The spy life, it's..." He drifted off, unsure how to adequately describe it. "It's not easy."

"He makes it look that way," Ellie said quietly.

Chuck had to agree. "He has some mad skills, he does. And he'll need to use them all when he breaks out. You need to be prepared for the potential outcomes... all of them."

She leveled her gaze at her brother. She had already thought of all the worst case scenarios she could imagine. Getting shot on his way out of jail. Getting caught and then thrown _under_ the jail. The one that hurt the most was the thought of his successfully escaping and then being on the run. Indefinitely. Forever. Without her.

When she smiled, he could see the steel behind the softness. He'd seen that look, a thousand times before, when they were smaller, when she had to be the adult in the family because they thought their father was just being scatter-brained. "El..."

"It'll be fine, Chuck. No matter what happens... we all know that John's a hero, that he'd never do anything without following his Marine Corps morals."

He nodded slowly. She was taking the news far better than he had imagined. "It's... It's my fault, sis. I got him into this mess. I'm the one who decided we would be better off working for ourselves... but we're out here, we're alone. We don't have the resources that we had when we were CIA."

Ellie's smile grew even more tender and she shook her head. "Chuck, for starters, you didn't force anyone at gunpoint to do this, to join you at Carmichael Industries. You didn't _make_ them do anything. They _chose_ to follow you. They were given the option and they made their own decisions and, in my opinion, they made the right ones. You, Sarah, Morgan... John."

He quirked an eyebrow, but she continued.

"Secondly, and most importantly, you aren't alone. You've never been alone. We may have been a tiny family, but tiny doesn't mean that we aren't mighty. It was always just you and me against the world, right? And Morgan."

"Wonder Woman, Batman... and the Boy Wonder..."

Ellie inwardly shuddered. "It was creepy then and the thought is still creepy now." Morgan had insisted that, surely, because both of their hero names had the word "Wonder" in them, that they were destined to be together.

"Thank goodness he grew out of that," Chuck added, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile.

"But, now, there's John, there's Sarah, there's Alex... It's like the Super Friends... Or, was it the Justice League?"

Chuck smiled. "Technically, either is acceptable, but Justice League sounds cooler..."

"We can do anything together. All of us, working together, moving toward the common goal... I have no doubt that we can succeed. If that means that John spends a little time in jail until we can figure it out... if that means that John stays away to protect us... so long as we are all in on the plan, so long as we all know what's happening, what's going on, I know we'll come out ahead. We always have."

Chuck had come over, believing that he would be the one to be offering his sister words of advice. He never thought that _she_ would be the one comforting him yet again. Of course, that had always been her super power.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	51. Shaken

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. Also, that other post-ep I had intended to write last week? Yeah... we'll blame it on the holidays. Moving on! ~K

Spoilers(ish): Chuck versus the Curse

Here's a few things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Chuck and Ellie discuss ways to break Casey out, and what implications that might cause.

* * *

Shaken

* * *

Ellie paced. Chuck had _promised_ that he would call and let her know when they were free, when Casey was released, when everything would be back to normal. And it had to be back to normal quickly, right? That was how spies operated - at breakneck speeds. Of course, that was only part of the equation. Caution, planning, and cunning made up the rest.

Feeling eyes on her, she glanced over to see Downy watching her from atop the counter. "It can't last forever, right? At some point, the phone will ring and someone will let me know that this nightmare is over."

Except, Downy merely blinked.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was hoping for, or waiting for. She wanted an answer, desperately, from someone, and at that point, she'd have taken a meow from her pet. No amount of cleaning or cooking could contain her nervous energy. Her focus, no longer task-oriented, landed squarely, solidly, on her family.

On her brother and her sister-in-law.

On her... boyfriend...

The term seemed like a misnomer. John Casey wasn't at all a _boy_ but a strong, protective, incredible man. And manfriend just sounded bizarre. He was her John, and she was ready for him to walk through the door to her apartment, smile that crooked grin, and lift her in a warm, solid hug.

Her heart skipped a beat, maybe six, when there was a knock at the door. Skidding in socked feet across the hardwood, she opened the door, hopeful to see everyone. She hated that her face fell when it was only Alex. "Hey..."

Alex, wise beyond her years, smiled knowingly. "I guess you haven't heard from them yet?"

Ellie shook her head, welcoming her inside. "Everything was going according to plan, at least that's the last thing I heard from Chuck."

"Then, I'm sure everything will be fine." Alex gave as hopeful a smile as she could. Seeing Ellie upset made it difficult for her to stay optimistic.

"You're right. Of course you're right," Ellie responded. "Why don't you go to John's, wait for him there... that way, no matter which apartment he comes to first, someone will be there to welcome him."

Alex looked up at her. "Are you sure?"

"Unless you don't want to be over there... I know you and Morgan..." Ellie drifted off.

"It's fine," Alex assured her.

"Why don't you take Downy with you, to keep you company? I'm sure she's seen enough of this place to last a while."

Alex was still hesitant.

"Downy loves your dad's place. He has a lot more interesting things for her to climb on," Ellie said with a tiny smile.

* * *

It all happened so fast.

Alex watched the drama unfold from the dim living room, content to observe the happenings of the courtyard with Downy on her lap.

The suits were clearly trained, blocking the exits as they methodically checked the apartments, beginning with Chuck's. When they pounded on Ellie's door, she wanted to warn her, to tell her not to open the door, to run, to hide, but there was no way to convey that message.

The last thing she saw was Ellie being pulled out into the courtyard by a blonde woman in heels and a black trench coat.

Scooping up Downy, Alex padded quietly to the kitchen, wedging herself in the tiny pantry which had been turned into a gun safe. Her father was notoriously changing things around to create his own personal arsenal.

She held her breath as the herd of elephants marched through the apartment, opening the bedroom doors upstairs, even venturing into the kitchen.

"He's not here," stated a nasally voice.

"I told you," said Ellie, "that he's not here. That no one else is home, not Chuck, not Sarah, no one..."

"You understand this is for your protection, don't you?" asked another female voice.

There was a moment's hesitation. "You understand I could really use a _martini_, don't you?" Ellie returned.

Alex clasped a hand over her mouth quietly. One night, they decided to come up with a code word. Being surrounded by spies, loving them and being loved in return, they both imagined that the time might come when they would be in danger, just by virtue of their proximity to their spying family. Alex had been the one to suggest the idea of a verbal warning, a cue that would seem innocuous enough. Ellie had joked about James Bond, and the "martini" was born, as an indicator of danger, of trouble.

The nasally gentleman spoke again. "Let's go, Ms. Bartowski."

"Actually, it's doctor-" Ellie began, but her voice sounded clipped, as though she ended her sentence prematurely.

Another series of footsteps left the apartment, though it was clear one or two remained. The woman spoke again. "Put this place on lockdown. No one in or out, not until we have apprehended the entire team."

"You honestly think that they'd come _home_?" asked another voice.

"Bartowski is a wild card. He makes game theory dizzying. Better safe than sorry. Monitor this complex until I give the all-clear."

"Yes, ma'am."

Alex strained to listen as the footsteps retreated from the apartment. Believing they were alone, she looked at Downy, who looked up at her. "What are we going to do now?"

* * *

Stay tuned...


	52. Movie Night

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a few things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot-Alex is the unfortunate witness to Ellie's kidnapping because of their association with Carmichael Industries.

* * *

Movie Night

* * *

Beer, popcorn, and Downton Abbey was, by far, one of the best ways to spend a night with her father. After all the insanity of, well, everything of the past several months, having a quiet evening was a blessing. Even Downy was enjoying the peaceful event, curled in her father's lap, her golden eyes drifting sleepily closed.

"So, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Casey said suddenly.

Alex glanced over at him, noting that his blue eyes were still focused on the TV screen. "Oh?"

"Something that would qualify as a major change..."

Mentally, she ticked through a list of what that could be. Would he go back to working for the NSA? Could he get his commission back with the Marines? Would an assignment be taking him away from Echo Park? "I see," she said quietly, hoping that she convincingly kept the concern out of her voice.

Clearly, she hadn't been able to.

Casey looked over at her. "Nothing _bad_," he assured her. "At least, I don't think you would consider it catastrophic or anything..."

"Change can be good. Just... what kind of changes are you planning on making?"

"Something of a personal nature." He eased Downy from his lap, and the cat clearly was not fond of the movement as she tried to dig her claws in to stay exactly where she was. "At ease, cat," he murmured, setting her on the floor for a moment.

Alex watched as he paused the movie, moving toward one of his many hidden gun cabinets in the living room. After entering a quick security code, the door hissed and slid open, revealing, as expected, a selection of massive firearms and ammunition. He selected something small from the shelf, hesitating for a moment. "Dad?"

He tightened his grip on the item before turning to look back at her.

She'd only seen him appear concerned once or twice. He seemed genuinely frightened. Suddenly losing her appetite, she set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and eased her beer onto the coaster beside it.

Downy, spotting an opportunity, leapt into her lap.

Casey crossed back to his seat. "I've given this a lot of thought... Probably too much thought."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," she said, nodding.

He held his hand out to her, his palm flat, revealing what he'd been hiding.

Alex's eyes grew wide when she saw the flocked ring box. All of her worst-case scenarios melted away when she realized what major personal life change he was talking about. She grinned broadly. "Dad! It's about time!"

He looked startled, taken aback. "What?"

Downy, again, was unhappy at her sudden appearance on the floor but Alex had to wrap her father in a hug. "You and Ellie?"

"Hopefully," he said quietly, an edge of uncertainty to his voice.

"Dad, c'mon! There's no hopefully about it. Of course she'll say yes!" As she pulled back, she grinned. "May I see it?"

Casey nodded.

She took the box from him, easing onto the arm of her chair, so she could face him as she opened it. Inside was an elegant, tasteful ring, nothing too fancy. The clear emerald-cut diamond was flanked by small garnets-clearly a nod to his Marine Corps heritage.

He watched the subtle movements in Alex's expression, the tiny smile that formed, the glistening of her eyes. "It's not too late; I can take it back..."

"Now, why on earth, Dad, would you want to do that? It's perfect."

He sounded uncertain. "Yeah?"

"She's going to love it," she said, closing the box and returning it to him. "When are you going to ask?"

"Still tweaking the details of that particular op," he told her as he returned the box to the safe.

"You aren't going to wait long, are you?"

He shook his head, listening as the door hissed closed and the tumblers clanked in the lock. "Everything's almost ready."

"Does anyone else know?"

He sighed as he returned to his chair again. "Walker is a very persuasive interrogator."

Alex grinned widely.

"You'll be the first to know the outcome, when I ask."

"When she says yes."

He glanced at her, wincing a little. "Don't jinx it." In what he hoped would end the conversation, he started the movie again, settling into his chair. Downy took her spot in his lap again as Alex slid back to sit properly.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	53. Time

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a few things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey shows off the ring he bought for Ellie to Alex. Spoilers for Chuck versus the Bullet Train.

* * *

Time

* * *

She sat at the computer, watching the computations sputter past. She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been there, but it was long enough that merely stretching her neck no longer eased the tension between her shoulder blades. Ellie was determined to figure out a course of action, to help save Sarah...

...whenever they found her.

She'd never seen her brother so upset before. It reminded her, a little, of what happened when their mother left. He withdrew into himself, as though soul-searching might unlock the key to getting her back. She tapped her fingers on the desk, wondering if a call to her mother might be beneficial. After all, Ellie was no spy, but Chuck and Casey were, and they always managed to do better with a full team. Mary might even be a calming influence on Chuck, serving as proof that spies _could_ live a long, somewhat healthy life.

When the door from the Buy More slammed open, she jumped. The voices that followed echoed all throughout the base, the tones angry, bitter, frustrated, and scared.

"He _has_ her, don't you get it?" Chuck demanded.

"He _had_ Alex earlier. Yes, I think I understand part of what you're going through," returned Casey.

Ellie knew well that her John could be gruff, even ornery when dealing with others, but there was a kindness under his words.

"And Alex is fine, dandy, sitting at home with your _cat_!" Chuck spat.

Morgan quickly jumped in. "C'mon, buddy, this is far from over... If there's anyone that can find her, anyone in the world, it's us. Team Bartowski."

"She could be dead already!" Chuck cried out in anguish, in agony.

"If she were, she wouldn't have activated her emergency beacon," said Casey. "And Quinn needs her to get the _other_ Intersect. I've got Beckman working back channels, pulling every string she has."

"It's taking too much _time_, Casey!"

"It may be to our benefit," Ellie said, getting to her feet.

Chuck noticed her for the first time. "Our... our _benefit_?" he repeated, disbelieving.

"I was there, Chuck, if you'll remember, when your Intersect finally took its toll. I remember the watch Dad made for you..." She gestured at the computer behind her. "With a little more time, I think I can have something for her, a governor of her own, based on her bio-chemistry, on her version of the Intersect."

Chuck blinked. "You... you can do that? How?"

"The laptop that was in Dad's Mustang... It had part of his research into the governor technology," she explained.

"But, what if it's gone? What if everything, if _everything_ is all gone? She was already forgetting Alex..."

Ellie's eyes flew to Casey after Chuck said that, unaware that Sarah forgot her partner's only child. "The good thing, the one good thing, is that we know that Morgan returned to normal once the Intersect was removed. While it may affect her behaviors while she has it, once it's gone, once it's under control, Sarah will be Sarah again. The memories may be suppressed, temporarily forgotten. There's no doubt in my mind that, _when_ you find her, everything will be fine, Chuck."

He closed his eyes. "God, sis, I hope you're right."

"In the meantime, you're going to need to try to get some sleep," Casey pointed out.

Chuck laughed, as though it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard in his life. "Not until Sarah's safe."

"You can't help Sarah, not without being at full strength," Ellie said gently. "You'll need to rest." While it was clear Chuck wanted to protest, his exhaustion was evident. "There are cots here, aren't there, John? So, whenever we receive news, he'd know immediately..."

"You aren't resting, too?" Chuck asked.

Ellie glanced back at the computer. "Not yet. But, soon," she promised.

"I feel like we're kids again, and you're sending me to bed at bedtime... like there's school tomorrow." Chuck rubbed at his forehead. "Like you used to."

"School? No," Casey said. "A rescue mission? That one's far more probable." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Find a bunk, Bartowski."

Chuck hesitated, clearly weighing the options.

"I could use some shut-eye, too. We work in shifts, might not be so bad. That way someone will always be up, ready to do whatever," Morgan added helpfully.

"Not a bad idea, Grimes," Casey said with an appreciative nod.

As Morgan guided Chuck down the hall, Ellie's eyes met Casey's. "How bad is it?" she asked in a whisper.

He crossed to her, pulling her into a hug – both for himself and for her. "We need to find her fast."

Ellie felt some of her tension leave when his arms encircled her. "We will... won't we?"

Casey kissed her hair. "We'd better."

* * *

Stay tuned...


	54. Decisions

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one. I hated saying #goodbyechuck last night. So, hello Downy this morning!

Here's a few things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Sarah's missing and Team Bartowski isn't handling that reality well.

* * *

Decisions

* * *

She looked at the letter, sighing. She hadn't applied for the job, hadn't been actively seeking other employment. Besides, everyone she loved was right there in Echo Park, right there in the same building... well, except her mother, who was often jet-setting around the globe, and Alex, who was frequently at Casey's apartment or hers.

Chicago seemed so far away.

She'd had the opportunity to visit the Windy City a time or two but had never made it. Scheduling conflicts, money being tight... the reasons were endless. While she wouldn't mind seeing it someday, the thought of picking up and leaving L.A., where she had made a home for herself, was strange.

Leaning back in her chair, she knew she wanted to ask Casey for his thoughts. With Sarah still gone, though, it just wasn't the right time to be adding more turmoil to the mix.

A sudden weight landed in her lap. She chuckled softly. "Downy..."

The calico made herself at home, pawing at Ellie's legs before settling in and purring loudly.

"What do you think, huh? Think John might move away? Might go to Chicago with me?"

There was no change in the pitch or volume of Downy's comforting sounds.

"I'm trying to imagine you on the plane, sweet girl. How do _you_ feel about flying, huh?"

Of course, even if Casey and Downy went with her, could she stand to be away from Chuck? If Sarah was never found, Chuck would need her. And Casey might not want to leave Alex. After all, he'd only recently discovered he was a father. Having been without a father herself, she knew just how important fathers were, no matter when they were found.

Her moment of peaceful consideration was broken, however, when the door to her apartment burst open and Casey stood there.

"Walker's back, she's banged up..."

"My kit's in the closet," she said, scooping Downy up as she stood. The letter, already forgotten, fluttered to the floor.

* * *

Casey lingered in the courtyard, rolling his lit cigar between his fingers. Could this be it? Could the so-called fat lady have sung? Could his last mission be behind him, and a civilian future lay before him? The feelings those questions churned within him were hard for him to define. Was it excitement? Fear? Confusion? Maybe some combination of all of the above?

He wished Chuck and Sarah well on their non-spying lives, he did. Part of him wanted to have a life like that, one where he didn't _have_ to have his guard up all the time. One where he wouldn't have to worry about people following him, wanting to kill him, wanting to capitalize on his weaknesses - on his _family_.

He wanted Ellie to be part of his family in an official capacity. Asking Ellie to marry him would expand his tiny family exponentially, adding Chuck and Sarah. Given how close Alex was getting to Morgan, he had a feeling his family may grow yet again and sooner rather than later.

But, could he give up the spy life forever? He'd given up everything for his country. Being a soldier, a spy, a killer, it was all he had ever known. His cover jobs had given him ample opportunity to portray a bartender, chauffeur, and appliance salesman, but those were hardly career material. He hoped, if it was goodbye to the spy life, that it was also goodbye to the menial tasks of carting stock around the electronics superstore.

If he wasn't a spy, if he was starting over, completely, what could he do? What could he be?

Training wasn't exactly his strong suit. Teaching more knuckleheads like Morgan to be spies wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. He had knowledge of game theory and international relations but policy decisions were best left to politicians. While he had definite ideas on what _should_ go on within Washington's halls of power, he wasn't inclined to have his picture splayed across newspapers to help make a difference there. He'd flown under the radar for so long that the thought of being publicized, recognized was beyond terrifying.

No matter what he did, he wanted to spend time with Ellie. The ring still sat in the safe in his living room, waiting for the right moment. They'd both been so busy and stressed since Sarah's disappearance that he hadn't even bothered to touch it, not since showing it to Alex.

Maybe he needed to take a different step, though. He still lived in one apartment, with Morgan as a roommate, and Ellie still lived across the courtyard, in the place she used to share with Devon. Perhaps the most prudent course of action was to ask her to move in with him, to find their own place, one that didn't have the memories of others lingering within the rooms, hiding in the shadows.

There was no need to uproot Morgan. And he didn't much care one way or the other about the vestiges of the "awesome" doctor, but if it was a clean break from the Buy More, from Carmichael Industries, from the NSA, it might be a good idea to continue the trend and find some house out in the suburbs somewhere.

If, of course, Ellie would consider leaving Echo Park.

Drawing one last deep breath through his cigar, he put the Costa Gravan corona out on the ashtray before wandering to her door. Unsure if she was awake, he knocked gently. He waited, hearing nothing from inside. Knowing her safety was of the utmost importance after Sarah's disappearing act, he checked the lock.

His stomach dropped to his knees when the knob turned and the door swung open easily. "Ellie?" he ventured cautiously. Drawing his gun, he was about to begin his thorough search of the house when he spotted her asleep on the couch. She was still fully dressed, with glasses somewhat askew on her nose.

Downy lifted her head from Ellie's arm, as if to admonish him for disturbing her sleep.

Easing the gun into the back of his pants, he silently padded to the couch, adjusting the covers around Ellie's legs and even petting Downy's head. With the cat somewhat satisfied, he continued his quiet trek around the apartment, making sure that the windows were securely closed, that everything was fine. He turned off the light in the hall and started to turn off the one in the dining room when he saw a piece of paper on the floor.

It was unlike Ellie to be messy, to have something out of place. Picking it up, his blue eyes skimmed the contents of the letter, and he eased down into one of the waiting chairs.

* * *

Stay tuned...


	55. Off

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Sarah is back—or is she?—and Ellie gets a job offer she wasn't expecting.

* * *

Off

* * *

Everything was different. The morning sunshine felt oppressive. The courtyard, once one of her favorite hangouts, seemed cold and foreign. Westside was more like a battlefield and less like a hospital. Worst of all, Sunday dinner just wasn't right.

Alex and Morgan sat beside each other, quietly picking at her pot roast.

While, normally, Sarah would sit beside Chuck, they were on opposite sides of the table that night, meaning that her view of the family table was altered, shifted. While she appreciated sitting beside Casey, it hardly made things right.

She missed the laughter, the stories that grew taller with each retelling. It just wasn't family dinner. As she cleared the table, making silent trips to the sink, she wondered if it was all too late to fix.

Tempering all of her thoughts, Chicago continued to weigh heavily in her heart, in her mind. Time was running out for her to make her decision, to accept the offer or to decline. She felt trapped, shoved into a corner and like each way out was just as dangerous, as unpleasant as the next.

As she struggled with the plastic wrap to put the leftovers away, she felt warm, strong arms encircle her waist, pulling her against a solid body. Even Casey's embrace couldn't save her from herself. "John…"

"You all right?"

She realized he always knew when she was _off_. She pondered the white lie—that he would clearly see through—or coming clean. Unfortunately, the answer hadn't come quickly enough.

Easing the wrap from her hands, he spun her gently.

She was helpless to resist his baby blues, and, worst of all, he knew that. "It's like, a month ago, we went to sleep, and everything was fine, but today…" She drifted off, shrugging.

"It isn't the same as it used to be," he agreed.

"We can't go back, can we?"

Casey realized just how deeply the changes of the past few weeks had affected her. Carmichael Industries was gone, as was the Buy More. Sarah's memory was sketchy at best. Chuck wasn't himself yet, because his other half, his _better_ half, wasn't yet back. He wasn't even sure what he was doing. He'd been a soldier, a spy, an assassin his entire adult life. Being a _civilian_ was hard enough the few brief times he had to endure that before, that now that he was, without a doubt, a regular Joe, it had been an adjustment. "We may not be able to go back, but we can go forward."

But, did forward count as _eastward_? "About that…" She toyed with the heart-shaped locket that hung around her neck. Her mouth went instantly dry. Why, she wasn't sure, because it was just Casey—just _her John_—and she'd never been afraid of him before. She wasn't afraid of him, per se, but of what his answer would be. It had the potential to be a huge change, even more than the peculiarities of the past month. When she licked her lips, in the hopes that the words might slip out easier, she glanced at his eyes, his _knowing_ eyes. Realization dawned on her in an instant. "You know, don't you?"

"I was wondering when you were finally going to get around to telling me about Chicago."

"It's been…" She let the sentence hang. It hurt, to think that their lives had changed so drastically, because of forces that were beyond their control.

"I know," he said quietly, saving her the pain of admitting it out loud. "Do you want to go?"

She looked past him, at Morgan, who was doing some odd little dance, making Alex and Sarah both chuckle. At Chuck, who was holding Downy in his arms, giving Sarah space still, all the space she needed, but he was still there, just in case. "Chuck and Sarah are…"

"They're perfectly capable of taking care of themselves," he said gently.

"Just, how can I add to the turmoil, y'know?" she asked, looking back at him. "Chuck lost his wife. He could think I'm abandoning him, too, and that…" She shook her head vehemently. "After Mom, after Dad, after _this_, I cannot do that to him."

"There's a difference, though, Ellie. You aren't leaving him, never to be seen or heard from again. You're just moving. You're taking a job, you're looking forward. And you'll never be more than a phone call away. Chuck needs you, Walker wants to talk… It takes two seconds to pull up your contact information on their cells."

"What about you, though?" she asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged a shoulder innocently. "Seems my calendar's pretty open. I could pencil in packing up, organizing a move..."

"You'd come with me?"

"Haven't you figured it out by now, Ellie? I can't let you go."

She smiled brightly for the first time in… she couldn't remember when.

Even he hadn't realized that he'd been missing out until she graced him with the most beautiful expression he'd ever seen in his life. After all of the horribleness, after all the anguish and the pain and the struggle, there was still hope.

There was still love.

Not everything was different.

* * *

Stay tuned…


	56. Ring Around the Collar

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Ellie asks Casey to go with her to Chicago. He accepts.

* * *

Ring Around the Collar

* * *

It had been a whirlwind week. Telling everyone had gone over easier than expected. Chuck was excited for her—for _them_. Alex, too, provided they made at least two trips per year back to Echo Park, and she, in return, would make at least one venture to Chicago, as her funds allowed.

Casey had done research on the best parts of Chicago to live, and they had three different realtors finding them something _perfect_. He liked having options open, as well as the competition. He knew they'd get the best deal that way.

In all of the newness, however, there was still something comforting about the familiar. And so, on Sunday, they were back where it all began, doing laundry in the complex's laundromat. The swishing of the washer, the humming of the dryer, even the soft floral scent of the fabric softener was like an old friend, like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. It made the chaos of packing up, of getting ready to move seem distant.

At least, it did for Ellie.

Casey seemed jumpy, on edge.

"Are you okay?"

He grunted something, his eyes trained at the door, not at all at her.

"John…?" She reached out, placing a hand on his arm.

For some big, strong Marine, for someone who was a spy, who was supposed to keep things or people from sneaking up on him, he was startled. "Ellie?"

Her happy thoughts were dashed as her Bartowski brain kicked into overdrive. What if he was having second thoughts about going to Chicago? What if he couldn't leave Alex? What if he was being courted with offers from some other government agency, and he'd be off to D.C. and then parts unknown, never to be seen or heard from again? "What's going on? What's… what's wrong?" she asked, her voice sounding foreign even to herself.

"Nothing," he answered quickly.

Too quickly for her liking. Her heart _ached_. This was bad. This was horribly, awfully terrible. She opened her mouth but couldn't speak.

He stood, glancing at the open door of the room. "You haven't seen Downy, have you?"

She felt like she was falling, spiraling. He was going to make sure she had the cat at least before he said something horrific. Downy had always made her feel better. At least he was thinking of her, right? "N-no. Why?"

"I've been thinking." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, firing off a quick text message.

She tried, desperately, to keep her voice even. "Oh? What…" She cleared her throat. "What about?"

"Life. The future. Our future."

She nodded very slowly.

The tightness in Casey's shoulders vanished when Downy scrambled into the room. Alex, in his line of sight only, shot him a thumbs up before vanishing deeper into the courtyard. "There she is," he said, scooping up the cat.

Ellie watched as he crossed toward her, offering the cat to her. Numbly, she took the calico, still confused, still dancing on the edge of hurt. Her fingers quickly got lost in Downy's fur, getting caught on something… different. Something loopy, something satiny.

Casey knelt in front of her. "Ellie Bartowski…"

Her jaw _dropped_ when she saw him in front of her. She felt like she was on a roller coaster, going from the painful, agonizing lift up the big hill, to careening down, weightless and free, surrounded by excitement. Her hands, still moving through Downy's fur, caught something cold, something hard attached to the loop.

His distance, she realized, was because he was _nervous_. Her anxiety had been completely unfounded and yet so _very_ Bartowski-like. "Yes."

"Will y—" He paused. "I haven't asked yet..."

"Doesn't change the answer. Yes!" she said again, tears of happiness building in her eyes.

Reaching over, he untied the blue satin ribbon from Downy's collar, revealing the diamond and garnet ring he'd purchased for her. "I had this planned a little differently," he admitted. Mostly, he had intended to _actually_ verbalize the question.

"John, it's beautiful," she whispered.

"Well, it belongs to someone beautiful," he said quietly, sliding it onto her left hand.

Ellie put Downy into the empty seat beside her (eliciting a sigh from the cat) before she slid off her chair.

Casey wrapped her up in his arms, kissing his fiancée for the first time.

* * *

Stay tuned…


	57. Spreading the News

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a few things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey proposes.

* * *

Spreading the News

* * *

Under normal circumstances, the family meal of the week was dinner at Ellie's. It was open to any and all who wished a seat, always had been. So, when Chuck was asked to come alone, without Sarah or Morgan, he was, naturally, a little suspicious. Even more so when he spotted Alex at the stoop, pondering a knock. "You got summonsed, too, huh?"

She smiled. "With the very foreboding 'come alone' warning from Dad?"

"El. But, yes."

"Did we miss someone's birthday?"

Chuck checked his internal calendar. "Don't think so."

"Some important anniversary?"

Chuck shook his head. "Those events would be public celebrations, filled with whoever wandered by. This is different."

"Bad different?" she asked cautiously.

He could only shrug. "Let's find out."

Mere seconds after he knocked, Casey opened the door, looking relaxed. "Welcome."

Alex entered first, accepting a brief hug from her father. Chuck was met by Casey's outstretched hand. While the Intersect felt it odd, he shook the Marine's hand nonetheless.

As they entered further into Ellie's apartment, they were nearly bowled over with the scents of lunch: freshly grilled mahi, garlicy mashed potatoes, and the sweet citrus vinaigrette over a spring salad.

Ellie was fidgeting with one of the chairs as they made their way toward the table. "We're so glad you could come."

"We certainly made it. And this seems sort of fancy for Sunday lunch…" Chuck chuckled nervously. He felt like he was about to sit down to his last meal before facing a firing squad.

Alex wasn't sure what was up, but there was definitely an unnatural, unwelcome tension in the room that was out of place. She looked hopefully at Chuck, but seeing his concerned expression did little to settle her nerves.

Downy read the anxiety easily, nearly tripping Alex in an attempt to rub against the young woman's shins.

"Cat," Casey chided lightly.

"It's fine, Dad. Really."

Plates were filled in that awkward silence. Had it been a typical dinner, Ellie would've regaled them with some wild hospital tale—in as much as she could without breaking any of the confidentiality rules of course. One amusing story always led to another from someone else in the group. Since Ellie was quiet, so was the table.

Chuck couldn't take it. "So…"

"So," Ellie echoed.

Alex bit her lower lip, her mind racing. Had Casey asked Ellie to marry him finally? Had it gone poorly? Was this some sort of disastrous goodbye?

Casey began to slice into his fish but harrumphed instead, lowering his knife and fork. "_So_, we have news to share."

Alex held her breath.

"News. News is good, right? Because no news is… No, wait," Chuck said, stopping himself from babbling on.

"Well, it's kind of a mixed bag, I guess," Ellie added, glancing at Casey.

"Mixed bag how?" asked Alex, following Ellie's gaze to her father.

Ellie shrugged a shoulder. "While it might be considered bad, if you look at it a little differently, it could be good."

"What news is it?" Chuck braced for impact. He'd had enough bad news to last a lifetime, after Sarah's disastrous turn with the government's super-computer.

"I've been offered a job," Ellie began slowly. "It's at a leading medical research facility, something that I've been looking for, dreaming of, really, for a long time."

"That's great, sis!" Chuck said immediately.

Alex could tell there was another shoe, however. "But…?"

"But, it's in Chicago," Ellie said softly.

Chuck wasn't sure how to respond to that, particularly when Ellie didn't continue.

Casey finished for her: "And, she's accepted it."

"That's… Sis, that's what you should do. Follow your dream. You always harped on me to do that, that's… that's aces, sis, really, that you can make that dream come true, doesn't matter where it is."

"Congratulations," Alex agreed.

"There is more…" Ellie's smile grew. "John asked me to marry him."

Chuck's eyes grew wide as saucers and Alex drew in a breath of air.

"And she's accepted that, too," Casey said as Ellie presented her left hand with the engagement ring.

In the excited five minutes that followed, with squeals of delight, hugs, kisses and movement, Downy found herself left out. When the humans settled back down to enjoy their meal, they were greeted by the sight of the calico, perched on the table, grazing lazily at Casey's plate.

* * *

Stay tuned…


	58. Final Countdown

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey and Ellie tell Chuck and Alex that there's an impending marriage… and a move.

* * *

Final Countdown

* * *

They were harried. Planning a wedding, a move, an entire life change, really, with very little time in which to accomplish all those things was draining. When Chuck, who was to be Ellie's Person of Honor, arrived to tell Casey that they were going out for a bachelor party, initially the Marine balked. He wasn't one for parties, especially not as the center of attention. And, there were numerous things that he needed to do in addition to the things he'd rather do than spend some stripper-filled night of debauchery with his soon-to-be brother-in-law and potential future son-in-law.

When Chuck showed him the "prescription" written in his intended's handwriting, Casey caved.

While Morgan tried to insist on the blind fold, the growling, vehement anger from the groom quelled that idea quickly.

Chuck had rented a black limousine (sadly, without bullet proofing, though the Intersect had asked the party rental company about the added safety features), which took the three of them to a steak house, a real red-meat, rustic kind of place which Casey loved. After dinner, they were chauffeured across town to a cigar bar, where the single malt flowed and the smoke circled the air.

The night ended unexpectedly at a gun range. Paper targets had been custom printed with some of America's most wanted terrorists just for the occasion. Chuck had bought out the entire place, just for their little shooting party.

Casey had never been so touched in his life.

As the night wound down, he slung an arm over Chuck's shoulders. "Thank you, Bartowski."

Morgan grinned.

"You're very welcome, big guy. Had to send you off to married life right. Y'know, I think it's gonna be kinda nice, having you as an official brother," Chuck said with a grin before turning more serious. "There's no one else in the world I'd rather have protecting my sister."

Casey nodded. "Means a lot. Your approval."

Morgan cleared his throat. "Speaking of approval, y'know, I was wondering if, someday, maybe, you might be approving of me and, possibly, Alex, being something more than what we are…"

Casey's grunt was nearly mournful. "You'll keep an eye on your niece for me, won't you?" he asked, looking at Chuck.

The Intersect grinned.

* * *

Ellie wasn't sure which way was up, left, right, or sideways. Between meetings with ministers, Skyping with realtors, and yelling at movers, she was exhausted. When Alex, who was to be Casey's Groom's Maid, arrived to tell her they were going out for a bachelorette party, initially the doctor hesitated. While she would've loved a night out, there was so much to be done, so much she was afraid wouldn't be accomplished in time.

When Alex showed her the "mission brief" written in her intended's handwriting, Ellie caved.

To Ellie's surprise, Sarah lingered in the courtyard by the fountain, to join them. While the spy had yet to fully recoup her memories, she wanted to remember what she'd had before, and that had included being a sister to Ellie.

Wordlessly, Ellie hugged Sarah before they headed to dinner in her father's old Mustang convertible with the top down.

Pre-dinner cocktails were at a swanky little club that had a very retro-sixties vibe, complete with a crooning Frank Sinatra-wannabe on the tiny stage. It was just what Ellie had needed, to forget that her life had descended into madness. The stress vanished, transported back in time just as they had been.

To Ellie's endless surprise, they returned to the apartment complex for dinner. They were met in the courtyard by a culinary professor from a local college, complete with groceries and necessary tools to help teach them how to craft a fantastically wonderful Moroccan dinner.

With a playlist Sarah had created with Chuck's help, the three ladies learned the finer points of the foreign cuisine techniques for a scrumptious meal. It couldn't have been a better way to end the night, at home, with her kitchen filled with laughter and music, and Downy, as always, getting right in the thick of things.

Heaven forbid the cat realize that there were things to be done _without_ her.

The ladies were proclaimed star chefs by their teacher, who left them with the specialty spices, gadgets, and recipes so that they could recreate it whenever they wanted. Alex insisted that they leave the dishes in the sink—because they could absolutely be done later—and guided the bride to be back outside.

It was like walking into an outdoor oasis, with twinkling floating candles in the fountain and white Christmas lights strung across courtyard from the upper balconies. Chilled champagne awaited them, along with chocolate-dipped strawberries.

Ellie shook her head as she helped herself to one of the padded lounge chairs. "This has been the best night." She looked at Alex and Sarah both. "I cannot thank you enough."

"Every now and then," began Alex, "you need a little pampering… a night of complete fun. I'm going to make sure Dad takes care of that for you when you're in Chicago."

Ellie reached out, taking Alex's hand. "I hope that means you'll come out and see us, so we can all do this again sometime. Both of you," she said, looking at Sarah.

"Knowing what I know about Chuck… and how much he loves you," began the spy guardedly, "I'm certain there will be many trips back and forth."

The bride nodded, releasing her soon-to-be step-daughter's hand. Inhaling slowly, she looked at the courtyard, at all the wonder that Alex and Sarah had been able to create. There had been many parties there over the years, so many excuses to gather, to have a good time.

Downy leapt onto the lip of the fountain, sniffing curiously at the strawberries.

There were so many memories of the courtyard, of that building… Ellie's smile was soft as she pulled Downy away from the treats, though she did grab one for herself as she settled back against the chair. The chocolate was bittersweet, just like she knew leaving Echo Park would be.

* * *

Stay tuned…


	59. To Have and To Hold

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

A few more notes… I'm fast running out of opportunities to talk to you, so bear with me!

Firstly… Happy Birthday, Cindy Ryan! The fic-y godmother, if you will, of this story is having a birthday today! Wishing you all the happiest, finest, most wonderful wishes, my dear, sweet friend.

Secondly… I realized just Friday that this story was actually up for an Awesome Award. I was officially blown away that this received a nomination. Humbly, thank you to the nominator… nominators? of this yarn.

…On with the show! ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey is treated to a surprise bachelor party, and Ellie is treated to a surprise bachelorette party.

* * *

To Have and To Hold

* * *

It all made sense after her evening with Alex and Sarah. Why go through the trouble of coming up with a perfect venue when they _lived_ there? The lights, the candles were simple and wonderful. She'd decorated that courtyard any number of times, and had learned tricks over the years, to ensure that the space was comfortable, workable for whatever.

While she'd never thrown a wedding there, it felt right.

That was where she'd met Casey. That was where Downy had entered their lives, bringing them closer together. It was so hard for her to believe that Downy's first soft little meow had been over two years ago. Life was so different then, and so very different now.

Chuck straightened his tie. While he wasn't in a tux, the suit was nice. Ellie had, of course, helped him pick it out. "You about ready, sis?"

She looked at the tiny bonsai tree that had arrived on her doorstep that morning, reminding her to take a deep breath, to find her center. It wasn't that she was worried, or nervous, or scared. It was only the end of one thing, the beginning of something else new and exciting. That always warranted a moment to be calm and reflect, to be thankful for the past and to be prepared for the future.

The smile she gave Chuck was absolutely beaming. "Very ready."

She didn't bother checking her makeup one last time—she hadn't put much on. Her long dark hair wasn't pinned back or glued to her head, it flowed freely down her back, pooling on her shoulders. The gown wasn't fussy; it was just a simple strapless tea-length number. Instead of impossibly tall heels, she wore simple white sandals, with her toes painted a garnet-red to match the roses she carried and the accents on her engagement ring.

When she linked her arm through his, Chuck smiled. "Aces, sis. Aces."

* * *

When the sultry strains of Etta James' "Sunday Kind of Love" began, Casey stood taller, straighter, if that was even possible. The song, like the rest of the wedding ceremony, just seemed to fall right into place. They'd fallen in love, after all, during a whole series of Sundays.

Without a doubt, it was the best kind of love to have in his opinion.

The front door to Ellie's opened, and Downy bounded out first, with a garnet and white bow for a collar. While the cat had been present at the rehearsal the night before, she had meandered about the courtyard, taking in the decorations and the familiar and new people rather than obediently following directions. However, she padded straight to the fountain, with its floating candles and flowers, and jumped onto the ledge, walking to sit beside where Casey was standing.

As though she hadn't needed to practice.

Casey didn't realize he was holding his breath, not until he felt Alex's light touch on his arm with the gentle reminder to inhale. He was glad he'd followed her order, because the moment his lungs had filled to capacity, _she_ walked out and with her first step, all the air left him. Ellie—_his _Ellie—his soon-to-be-_wife_—was, quite literally, breathtaking.

Her eyes never left his, and for that he was eternally grateful that Chuck was guiding her. The closer she came, the more he realized that maybe he hadn't actually worn his dress blues for her before. After all, he hadn't been able to be himself, not for such a long time, that the Marine part of the story seemed like something that could easily be forgettable.

"Colonel," she murmured softly when she arrived at his side, as the song came to an end.

"Hi," he managed in return. "Wow."

"Wow yourself," she said, squeezing his hand.

The crowd that had gathered was small, intimate. In addition to those in the ceremony, Morgan, his mother, Bolonia, and Big Mike sat on Ellie's side of the courtyard, while General Diane Beckman and Sarah sat on Casey's. Lurking in the shadows, near the exit to the parking lot, were Jeff and Lester.

The ceremony was officiated by a Marine chaplain, who ran a tight ship. Everything was going smoothly until he asked for the rings. More specifically, until it was time for Ellie to place the ring on Casey's finger.

Chuck reached into his pants pocket—no ring. He casually checked the exterior pockets of his jacket—still no ring. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he reached for his interior coat pocket. "Just, um, one sec, here, guys, I…" The relief that washed over him was nearly instantaneous as he emerged with it. "Ah-ha!" As Ellie accepted the ring, Chuck shrugged at his impending brother-in-law. While he was fairly certain the big man had grunted, it didn't have near the bite that it once had.

Married life, Chuck knew, would suit Casey well. It had suited him, well, too, and he glanced at Sarah, who was looking back at him with a slight smile.

Once the rings were exchanged, and the vows were said, there was little left to do except kiss the bride.

Casey was flooded with memories, of rain-soaked afternoons doing laundry, of dancing and fireworks, of rescuing Ellie from scary movies, of spending holidays with family, of endless hours of talking. And he never talked that much, to anyone. No one except _her_.

Ellie's thoughts drifted to chicken soup deliveries, Batman costumes, and shared slices of pie before traveling on to Black Friday sales, a late Valentine's Day dinner and, of course, the proposal. While it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, it had been a long time coming.

After all, the best relationships were founded on mutual trust, which had to be built. There was no one stronger to her, than him, and there was no one more resilient to him, than her.

Casey slipped an arm around her waist, gently pulling _his wife_ closer. "Dr. Casey," he said softly.

"John," she returned before rocking up on her toes to kiss _her husband_.

* * *

Stay tuned…


	60. Happily Ever After

For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Final notes—This has been an incredible two years—and I never thought I'd be posting on the same story for that long. I want to thank each and every one of you for reading. It is with deep sadness that I leave these characters, and this cat, but I appreciate you taking the time to go on this journey, too.

Especially huge thanks to Cindy Ryan. Without her plot bunny, this story would've never existed. Two little words, I think, is all it really took: "What if..." and then *boom*, we have 60 chapters. A _novel_ of a tale. So glad to know you, Cindy. So glad we've bounced into numerous fandoms together. To borrow from an earlier fandom… "What's next?" :)

Much love to you all, ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Ellie and Casey finally get married.

* * *

Happily Ever After

* * *

It was hard to believe that it was all over. In two weeks' time, they'd jetted off, celebrating married life on a whirlwind trip through Spain before settling into the new digs in Chicago. Well, they were still unpacking.

Neatly organized boxes, with crisply written labels were still scattered about in the rooms where they were supposed to be. Only the couch and TV were fully set up in the living room, and the master bedroom was a decorated, completed oasis compared to the rest of the cardboard maze.

Downy loved it. She bounded over each and every stack, perusing her new home from exquisite heights. In fact, as Ellie and Casey slowly made their way through the boxes, removing the items and putting them away in their new home, Downy mournfully meowed, as her play-place slowly dwindled.

It was odd, not to see palm trees, but seeing Lake Michigan was strangely reminiscent of home… excepting for the fact that Ellie's internal compass was completely turned around. She was used to the water being on the _left_, not the right.

With the kitchen partially put together, Ellie flopped onto the couch. Casey wasn't far behind her, though he held two glasses of icy cold water.

"Will this place ever be done?" she lamented.

"In no time," he promised.

As he sat beside her, she adjusted, resting her head against his broad shoulder. "What do you think they're doing in LA right now?"

He glanced at his watch, mentally calculating the time difference. "Right now… Doing the same thing we are: thinking about the ones they miss."

"When's our first trip back to visit?"

Downy, not to be left alone, jumped from her perch onto the back of the couch before joining her owners properly, settling into Ellie's lap.

Ellie laughed. "I think Downy might like to meet the _kitten cousins_."

Casey couldn't help but agree as he petted the calico. "I was thinking we might need to go next month… Nobody throws Independence Day celebrations quite like the Queen Mary…"

"John, that sounds absolutely _perfect_," Ellie said, looking up at him.

* * *

Chuck stared at the blank television screen. "What do you think they're doing right now?"

Morgan huffed a sigh. "Having some awesome deep-dish pizza."

Alex shook her head. "It's far too early in the morning for that. Even in Chicago."

"But, don't you bet it's incredible? Chicago-style pizza… _in_ Chicago? We so have to go. When we visit, that is," Morgan added.

"We should let them get settled, though, right? It'll help with the separation anxiety… if we aren't bouncing over there immediately. We should give them time," Chuck said.

Sarah could tell he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince the others. Wordlessly, she stood, moving toward the kitchen for more coffee.

"But, we will go visit. At some point. And I'm sure they'll come here," Alex said with a nod.

"It's just that this apartment isn't the same, y'know?" Chuck said quietly. After all, they sat in what had originally been _Ellie's_ apartment. She'd been the one to find the place, to fall in love with the hacienda-feel, the welcoming courtyard where they'd all spent so many hours, having wonderful memories.

Morgan nodded, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "We'll be okay, Chuck."

When the doorbell rang, Chuck blinked. "Kinda early for visitors…"

Sarah emerged with her steaming mug. "I'll get it," she said, waving them off. While she crossed toward the door, the others turned to see who could possibly be gracing the door. When she opened it, however, there was no one standing there. Concern gripped her when she realized that whomever had been fast, as there was no one even in the courtyard at all. At the very least, if someone attempted to surprise them, she could use her hot coffee as a weapon.

What distracted _all_ of them was the very soft sound, something that sounded an awful lot like—

Alex jumped to her feet. "Is that…?"

"No way…" Morgan stood as well, spotting what Sarah hadn't seen initially—the _carriers_ on the stoop.

Chuck slowly made his way toward Sarah, as the sound rang out again.

The pet carriers were matching, though one was labeled "Walker/Bartowski" and the other "Coburn/Grimes." Inside were tiny, friendly balls of fur. Chuck carried them both inside, offering the appropriate one to Alex and Morgan.

Morgan held it while Alex immediately freed the little creature, a baby Persian. While Alex cooed over it, Morgan scratched her head. "What is it?"

Alex checked the collar and immediately laughed. "Her name is _Starch_."

Chuck lifted the occupant of the other carrier, a small tabby, entirely black. "Hey, there," he said to it.

The black cat peered at the one holding him curiously before spotting Sarah beside him. Immediately, the cat wriggled to get out of Chuck's hands and into Sarah's.

Sarah traded with Chuck, the cat for the coffee, holding the little dear securely. "And this," she said, "is Hamper."

"Who could've…?" Morgan began.

"Who else?" asked Chuck.

"I guess Casey and Ellie didn't want you… us… to be lonely without them," Sarah said.

* * *

The End.

…no really… this time it is… ~K


End file.
